


Like Brothers

by WincestSounds (Cammerel)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Dimple Adoration, Divorce AU, First Timer!Sam, Freckle Love, Incest, M/M, Not Established, Power!Top Sam, RP, Sub!Dean, Top!Sam, Wincest - Freeform, top!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-16
Updated: 2013-03-19
Packaged: 2017-12-05 11:58:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 48,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/723042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cammerel/pseuds/WincestSounds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Separated from his brother early in life, Dean Winchester eventually splits off from his father, a hunter of all things Supernatural. Dean doesn’t realize that a strikingly handsome man at the bar, Sam Campbell, might just be more than what he appears to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> KIND OF Season: 1.

Dean was only five years old when his parents split up and, though he was kept in the dark about it by his father, he knew that the divorce had something to do with John Winchester’s attitude and distance to both his wife and his sons. He had been a negligent father and, though he didn't deserve either of the boys he'd parented, he gained custody of Dean.

The older Winchester had become somewhat resistant, over time. He missed his brother, he wanted to see him. But John never talked about young Sam Winchester, had refused to share any lasting details about the boy. Most of the time, now, he kept it at just Dean and him. It never branched out from there.

Living motel to motel, and never working a steady job, John persisted in an endless rage, taking out haunting after haunting, dragging his son into the blind, mindless job. And, eventually, maybe inevitably, it caused even Dean, himself, to drift away from his father.

In time, he saved up enough and moved out into the world on his own. Granted, he still traveled around a lot - having it all but bred into his bones by now - Dean made his way, sharking pool and sleeping around.

As the years wore on though, he slowed, he got tired of changing the scenery and, before he even realized it was happening, he was settling down in an unusual neighborhood, fixing cars for snobby little rich boys and causing their girlfriends to break up with them. They all were far more interested in the darker, more mysterious Dean Winchester.

Though he was normally only a year or two older than them, some times more, he seemed to intimidate the clean cut frat boys of Stanford University. But none of them sat at the tables in the bar, they all walked in, shiny and new and virgin to it, sitting on stools and sipping something they’d heard of on a tv show they watched. So it was no wonder why they looked at Dean with wide, scared, curious eyes.

Dean shuffled the cards in his hand as the men from his table stood up finally, giving in for the night and he took up his beer, what was on tap that night, swishing it around over his tongue like mouth wash and he was about to get up when the young man walking through the door caught his attention.

His eyes instantly focused on the strong cords of muscle along the kid’s arms, the tight pull of his shirt over the broad expanse of his torso, the long legs stretching the man up closer to the door than Dean had seen most reach, and his mouth watered just staring at the giant of a man framing it.

* * *

It was about two weeks after Sam's twenty second birthday, and he was dying to finally go out for the first time, considering he never got around to it on his twenty first. He'd blown a couple of his buddies off when they offered to take him out, told him that he was just going to stay in and study for his criminal law exam.

Of course, there was no way in Hell Sam was going to study when he **actually** had the opportunity to sneak off and see what a bar was like first hand, he just didn't want to do it under the scrutinizing eyes of his classmates. Part of it was curiosity, okay no, **all** of it was curiosity.

Growing up, Mary never really let Sam do much, she was always too worried about whether or not Sam would get hurt. She constantly felt the need to shield Sam from everyone and everything. So now that Sam was off at college and wasn't letting his guilty conscious get the best of him, he was actually going to do this.

His nerves were a little out of whack and he felt a surge of adrenaline, and then felt stupid about it, because this was just a bar and he could do this without freaking out.

He stood in the doorway and shoved his I.D. back into his wallet after showing the bouncer. His eyes skimmed the surroundings and he made his legs move, part of him felt like a kid who got caught doing something they shouldn't have been doing.

He noticed a bunch of preppy looking girls and guys lined along the bar, and even though he'd never had a drop of alcohol in his life, he turned his nose up at their choice of drinks.

Sam leaned one hip against the bar and smiled timidly at the bartender, "Budlight, please."

Sam started observing the room after the man popped the cap off of a bottle and sat it in front of Sam, the beer was resting idly in his hand when he noticed a ruggedly handsome guy at the far edge of the bar with cards in his hands. At that thought, Sam shook his head and looked away as he took his first sip of his drink and grimaced at the bite of the liquid.

Dean knew that his prey was interested the second he glanced over and he avoided the girl trying to stuff her hands in his leather jacket’s pocket, or grab onto his arm - whatever she was doing.

Though the college girls were... Admirable at just how easy it was to get into their underwear and leave them before sunrise, Dean’s entire mood had changed the second he saw the man and he was making it his job to catch the bar’s newest addition.

He moved, settling himself down beside the tall man, “Not your thing?” He asked, motioning to the beer and flirting fairly openly to make sure the man was game.

Sam couldn't help the curious smile that tugged at his lips, this guy had to of had one of the sexiest voices Sam had ever heard; man _or_ woman. He had a few girlfriends from time to time, but he never let himself to entertain the thought of being with a guy. It wasn't that he didn't want to, it was just that it was _uncharted territory_.

Sam sat the bottle back down and looked at the man next to him, "Believe it or not," Sam shrugged nonchalantly, "First beer I've ever had."

Dean’s eyes observed the young man’s body, slowly moving up it as he licked his lips, “I’d believe it. You’ve... Clearly got better things to do than to waste your time sittin' 'round a beaten down dive like this.” He raised his brows to Mac, the bartender, and smirked as a beer was set down in front of him.

“I haven’t seen you ‘round here before.” Dean turned to the young man again, “You go to Stanford?”

Sam was almost staring at the guy now, the easy smile and how green his eyes were, "Y-Yeah," Sam's eyes widened and he lowered his head when he realized he'd been looking a little longer than necessary, "Pre-Law." He could feel his cheeks heating up, almost unable to believe that he just actually stuttered and _wait_ , was this guy... _hitting on him?_

Dean chuckled, for such a tall, strong guy, someone who **clearly** worked out weekly, this young man was so incredibly bashful and shy. It made Dean want him even more. He’d been with little virgins before, but not men, not like this one. There was something different, surely.

“Pre-Law,” He repeated the young man’s words as he sipped his beer, “Sounds... Like a lot. So what are you doin’ here, of all places? Shouldn’t you be hittin’ the books? Or did you need somethin’ to take your mind off of it all?”

_Yeah_ , this guy was definitely hitting on him, "Should be studying, definitely," Sam nodded and took another sip of the beer, "My birthday was about two weeks ago, thought I'd treat myself."

Sam turned in his seat a little, more towards the guy and smiled, "What's that saying? 'All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.'"

“Indeed it does,” Dean agreed, goddamn this guy was gorgeous, just look at those fucking **dimples** , “You waited two weeks to treat yourself?” He raised his brows, “I’d say you’ve some makin’ up to do. I’m Dean, by the way - Winchester.”

"Had to work up the nerves to actually step foot in here," Sam admitted openly and narrowed his brows slightly, because that name **almost** sounded familiar, "I'm Sam," He could feel the other man's gaze on him and it was... flattering to say the least, "Campbell." For as manly as this guy looked, he was also really fucking pretty with his long lashes and freckles splattered all over his face.

Dean kept himself collected - on the outside - the moment he heard the name; _Sam_. But there were millions of Sam’s in the world, he was bound to fuck one sooner or later. Hopefully sooner. He nodded to their surroundings, “After a while, you start to be intimidated by leavin’ the bar, not the other way around.”

He polished off his beer and set down a twenty, “So, Sam Campbell, did you have any other plans for the night?”

Sam felt a knot in his throat at the question, but he was a grown ass man and he wasn't about to back down from something he didn't even know he wanted, "I think I do now," He bit his bottom lip to stop from smirking. Sam hadn't even finished his beer, but he pulled out a ten and laid it next to Dean's twenty.

Dean’s eyes darkened and he pushed from the bar, reaching over it for a moment and grabbing the keys from where the bartender kept them for him, “I’m good enough, yeah?” He asked and the man nodded, taking up their mugs and making a salute motion that Dean quickly returned, “See you tomorrow, Mac,” He said.

He took the front of Sam’s shirt, just above his navel, “My place?” He offered.

Sam knew his cheeks had to be bright fucking red when he nodded, "Sounds good."

He had never fully thought about having sex or _anything_ of the sort with another man, but his dick made up his mind for him when Dean pulled on the front of his shirt and good **god** did he want it.

Dean pulled Sam along, out the front door and to the shiny black Impala parked **directly** in front of the entrance to the bar. He moved to the passenger’s side, spinning his keys in his hand as he let go of Sam’s shirt and unlocked the car door to let the young man in.

Sam nodded in approval before he slid into the passenger side seat, "Nice ride."

His nerves were on the fritz again, because how much did he really know about this guy and he was already willing to go back to his place.

“Yeah, she’s a thing of beauty,” Dean agreed as he climbed into the driver’s side and started her up, carefully pulling out of the bar and avoiding a group of drunken frat boys smoking outside, that being the biggest difference between them and the one in his car, someone had standards.

“She’s kinda my baby.”

"Understandable," Sam ran his right hand along the dashboard, then leaned back, "Classic." He hooked his left arm behind the seat and tried to calm himself down, he didn't want his nerves to show.

Dean looked over, smirking, normally at this point, he’d have his hand on the girl’s thigh, or in her hair, along her cheek. He couldn’t explain it, but the man just **looked** like he belonged in the passenger’s side seat of Dean’s Impala.

He licked his lips as he pulled into the apartment complex a short ways away from the bar and parked his car, “You good?” He asked, eyes heated as he looked at Sam.

"As good as to be expected," Sam answered and returned Dean's heated gaze. All it took was one look and Sam could feel his cock twitch with want.

Sam's eyes kept lingering on Dean's lips, they were so full, pink and shiny. He felt conflicted, his thoughts were constantly switching between _you really shouldn't be doing this_ and _how pretty would those lips look stretched around my dick?_

Dean climbed from the car, locking her up and moving to the door as he thumbed the blade in his pocket. He never trusted streets like these, even when he lived on them. Considering he knew what was out there, he didn’t leave the moment open for **anything** to happen upon him - helpless. He opened the apartment door and allowed Sam in first, checking the street before he locked up.

Sam looked around the room and didn't really notice anything that jumped out and said, ' _Hey, I'm a serial killer_ ,' Which relaxed him immensely. It was odd though, because he didn't really feel like Dean would have hurt him anyway.

Dean smirked, shucking off his jacket and slinging it onto the couch as he moved to Sam, eyes darkening as he reached up, taking the back of the taller man’s neck and yanking him down for a kiss. He could taste the sweet flavor of Sam's beer, a lightweight drink in comparison to what he was use to, but he was more concentrated on the thin but supple lips of the younger man.

He pulled back and waited, breathing heavily just briefly before Sam’s lips, giving him the opportunity to pull back, “Just once,” He said, blinking slowly, “Are you in this, or not?”

It took Sam a minute for his thoughts to catch up, because those lips were just as soft, if not more so, than they looked. Sam fisted Dean's shirt and pulled him back in aggressively for another kiss, he needed to feel those lips on his again, "Pretty sure."

“Good, cause goddamn,” Dean stared into Sam’s eyes, clearly excited, “M’not sure f’I can pull away at this point, even f’I wanted to.” His hand grabbed the larger man’s hip, pulling him in and Dean rolled his own, pressing his rock-hard cock against Sam’s inner thigh.

Sam shuddered from the sensation and rolled back into Dean in turn, he was hard and so was Dean, **obviously**.

He halfheartedly chuckled and nosed his way along Dean's jaw before nibbling on his neck, "Bet you say that all the time." Sam was okay with this though, maybe this is what he needed in order to survive the rest of his semester.

“You have such sassy bed talk,” Dean said, grinning as he walked Sam backwards through the living room, closer to the open door on the other side as he pulled Sam’s shirt off and began working on the larger man’s belt.

"Not really in your bed yet, are we?" Sam smirked as he watched Dean's strong capable fingers working on his belt buckle. No sooner than Dean got the belt buckle loose, Sam tugged at the hem of Dean's shirt and pulled it off of him as they both stumbled towards what Sam presumed to be a bed.

“Not _yet_ ,” Dean responded, grabbing Sam’s lip in his, sucking it roughly as he kicked off his shoes and paused to shoves Sam’s pants down his thighs. He wasn’t completely sure, but he had a feeling that this man was a first timer - _with guys_. He seemed very... New. Just that thought though, considering he was with **Dean** now, made him harder than he was already.

Dean Winchester, turning men gay at the drop of a smile and a stupid pick up line.

Sam parted his lips and traced Dean's bottom lip with his tongue as he kicked his shoes off and shucked his jeans the rest of the way down.

Sam tugged at Dean's jeans, pulling their bare chests to one another, "C'mon, pretty boy, get those pants down." This was definitely a first for Sam, but it was practically the same thing, except for the extra appendage, _right_?

For someone who was so nervous that he thought he was actually going to puke, Sam did a pretty good job at hiding it.

Dean’s brows rose, _pretty boy, huh?_ He chuckled and pulled back, stepping out of his jeans before he grabbed Sam’s face down once more, fingers curling into the larger man’s hair as he pressed his lips to Sam’s ear, “You gonna fuck me, or do you want me to fuck **you**.” Being forward was probably the best tactic with a _gay sex_ virgin. And Dean didn’t **do** beating around the bush.

Okay, so Sam was pretty sure his nerves were starting to show. He didn't exactly know the etiquette when it came to having sex with another guy.

He swallowed hard when he realized his calm facade was starting to drop, "I, uh... It doesn't matter." Sam licked his lips and rested his right hand on Dean's hip. What was he supposed to say? _Hey, I've never had sex with another guy before, so I have no clue what I'm doing?_

“Do you _want to fuck me_?” Dean asked, taking Sam’s earlobe between his teeth for a moment, “Think you can? Think you’re man enough to fuck me?” He tilted his head, brushing his stubble against Sam’s cheek.

“Come on, big boy. What’s it gonna be?” He moved to look Sam in the eyes, the tip of his nose pressed to the tip of the larger man’s and he smirked.

" **Man** enough?" Sam made a contemplative face and kissed Dean, "Definitely. Just try not to be too disappointed when I fuck up, 'cause I'm sure it's gonna happen." If that wasn't the least sexy thing he'd ever said, he wasn't sure what was. Sam could hear his heart hammering away in his chest so loudly he was positive Dean could hear it.

Dean pushed Sam back gently, just enough that he fell back on the bed and Dean stripped his boxers off, his own following shortly after, “You’re doin’ fine. I’ll drive in the beginnin’.” He climbed into Sam’s lap, legs settling there around the larger man’s waist, feet dangling off of the bed behind himself. He kissed Sam, reaching out over the bed for the lube he’d left in the tangled sheets that morning.

Sam rested both of his hands on Dean's hips and pressed more into the kiss, teasing and nipping at the other man's tongue. He could feel his cock throb in anticipation from the new angle they were in, and he almost moaned from just the pressure of having Dean straddle him, "Okay," He nodded hesitantly.

“Sec,” Dean breathed into Sam’s mouth before pulling away and spreading the lube on his fingers, reaching back behind himself. He knew he didn’t need much prepping, but he wanted to be sure before jumping right on this man’s cock.

His fingers pressed into the puckered entrance and he moaned, bucking his hips against Sam’s as he pulled his own bottom lip between his teeth.

It took Sam all of three seconds to catch on before he brought two of his fingers to his mouth and sucked on them slowly, getting them wet with his spit. He reached around and swatted Dean's hand away, he rolled his hips at the same time he pushed his forefinger into the other man's heat.

"Fuck," Dean said in surprise, his forehead suddenly dropping onto Sam's shoulder as he bucked again, hips sinking onto the other man’s larger fingers and Dean’s hands gripped at the back of his hair, pulling him into a rough, almost violent kiss that he was sure broke skin _some where_.

Sam felt dizzy with the rush of lust that hit him, Dean was so warm and tight around his fingers. He rolled his hips in a slow continuous motion as he added another finger and damn near hissed when he thought about how good that was going to feel wrapped around him.

Dean's no bullshit attitude was a crazy fucking turn on, Sam practically whimpered into the other man's mouth when he pulled Sam's hair.

Dean nearly sobbed at the pressure and he reached out to the bedside, fingering the small desk there and pulling a condom from it’s depths, tearing open the package with his teeth as he moved Sam’s hand away, “That’s ‘nuff,” He said, licking his lips as he shifted back to make space and began rolling the condom onto the other man’s desperately purple length. He just wanted sex at this point, goddamn, some times he was so needy for it that he seemed impatient, but he was hoping this came across as eager instead.

"Damn," Sam leaned back and watched Dean roll the condom on, causing his cock to twitch. He licked his lips and squeezed Dean's thigh, he was ready to be buried deep in him.

At this point it was pretty obvious what to do, so he felt Dean didn't really need to show him. Sam leaned forward and bit down on Dean's neck roughly as he wrapped his arms around his waist, he lifted Dean with hardly any effort at all for a full grown man and pushed him up against the wall.

Sam pressed against him firmly to keep him from sliding down, "Ready?"

Dean felt his stomach nearly bottom out and he moaned an appreciative ‘yes’ before he had time to register the question. _Holy fuck_ , Sam was so dominating, so **strong**. He’d never been with a guy like this before, but if it wasn’t the hottest fucking thing ever. His hands touched Sam’s shoulders and his back arched as his legs crossed around the larger man.

Sam grinned and wrapped his arms up underneath Dean's thighs, using his right hand to position the blunt tip of his cock against Dean's heat. Sam leaned forward and took a needy kiss as he let Dean slide down enough so that he'd slide slowly onto Sam's length.

He buried his face in Dean's neck as a moan rolled from his lips, the heat was close to searing and oh _God,_ it was the tightest thing Sam had ever felt, "Holy shit."

“Goddamn,” Dean licked his lips and a ragged, torn moan escaped his mouth as he grabbed at the back of Sam’s hair, then chest, running his palms over the sculpted muscles, “You’re fuckin’ strong,” He said numbly. He almost felt stupid with the size of the length inside of him, drunk with the foreshadow of sex as he rolled his hips, “Fuck me already, come on.”

"Yeah?" Sam smiled at him mischievously and withdrew just to start slamming back into him, long fast thrusts, "Like that?" Sam scraped his teeth along Dean's collar bone and let out a stifled moan.

Dean’s head dropped back against the wall and he shuddered, “Holy fuck, that’s... That’s more like it,” He said, eyes rolling back as his hands clawed along Sam’s right peck and he tried to respond, hips unable to do much more beyond the mental flailing. He’d never felt something so intense as this, and they weren’t even **started**.

Sam had a white-knuckled grip on Dean's thighs as he continued to roll into Dean with fervor, his hips stuttering every once in a while when Dean would tighten around him. Sam had never been so rough with someone in his life, but something about Dean said ' _let loose on me, I can take it_ '. The room almost echoed of grunts, moans and skin slapping.

“Harder,” Dean said, thighs squeezing Sam’s torso tight as one hand moved back behind him, against the wall, keeping his body in place as the larger man fucked him into it. He could barely breathe with how intense the whole thing was, gasps of air bursting from his lungs in sharp, painful little puffs as the hips rocked against him.

Sam paused, but only long enough for his mind to register what Dean said, then he was fucking into the other man so hard it was both painful and pleasurable, a perfect combination.

His teeth found Dean's shoulder and Sam bit down, his tongue laving at the bite mark. That was right around the time when Sam thought maybe it wouldn't be so horrible to call Dean **his** , but then again, this was just a one night stand and he knew nothing about the guy. _Less thinking, more fucking_.

Dean’s legs dropped from Sam’s sides finally, pushing the larger man out of him and shoving him back onto the bed. He climbed atop Sam, positioning his cock as Dean settled onto it once more. His head dropped back for a moment and he breathed before his legs picked up pace, carefully bouncing on Sam’s lap, feeling the cock slamming into him so hard that Dean was reduced to sounds and words that didn’t make sense.

Sam grabbed Dean's hips needily as he fucked up into the older man whenever he thrust down. Sam rolled his head backwards and moaned louder than he expected, when he looked up at Dean he about lost it right there; sweat was settling between the other man's brows, bright green eyes hovering over a blanket of freckles.

He dropped one hand from Dean's hip and tightened it around his cock, starting to jack him off in a nice slow motion compared to how they were fucking.

Dean shuddered suddenly, sparks dotting his vision as he came, his arms shook as he held himself up, nose to nose with Sam, staring into his eyes as he continued to fuck himself on the larger man. He moved, pressing wet, sweaty kisses over Sam’s mouth.

Sam tensed up and came seconds after Dean, it was probably the best orgasm he had ever had, the other man's 'O' face was definitely his undoing. Sam kissed back lazily and made low appreciative noises, " _Fuck_."

Dean stared down at Sam, his eyes wet with tears, body shaking as he continued moving, milking Sam inside of him as he pressed their foreheads together, “Sonova bitch.”

He couldn’t explain it, but he felt so intense, so strained, so satisfied and overwhelmed that he almost couldn’t breathe. And, of the people he’d been with, never had he felt so connected, never had he came so fast or felt so good doing it as he did now, with Sam.

Sam stilled Dean's hips, it was too sensitive, "Easy," Sam gave Dean a bliss-ed out dopey grin. Looking at Dean like this almost made Sam want to be all romantic and such, which he new was cheesy, _but what could you do?_

Sam kissed Dean's forehead and sighed contently before he dropped his head back to the bed.

Dean chuckled and tried to lift himself up off of Sam, but his legs started shaking and his arms did as well, he couldn’t keep himself still long enough and he finally gave up, laying his forehead against Sam’s chest, breathing slow and shivering as he continued to chuckle again, “Goddamn.”

Sam idly played with Dean's hair, unsure if this was off limits or not. He kissed Dean's forehead and chuckled as well, because he knew what Dean was feeling without him having to say anything, "Agreed."

He brought his other arm back and laid his head on it, "This is the part where I grab my clothes awkwardly and leave, meaning I'll never see you again, right?"

“Guess so,” Dean said numbly, sitting up finally and rolling off of Sam, taking the condom from the other man’s cock and tying it up before he laid back on the bed, chest still heaving, smirk still firmly set in place.

Sam leaned up and grabbed his pants from the floor and slid them on, he shoved his boxers in his pocket. He left the belt undone, picked his shirt up and put it on as he wiggled his feet into his boots.

He looked back at Dean and smiled, "It was fun." It had to be the most irresponsible thing Sam had ever done, but he sure as hell didn't regret it.

Dean nodded, getting up and moving to Sam, taking him by the back of the neck and pressing a firm, heated kiss to the younger man’s lips, moaning as he did so. He pulled away and raised his brows, “I don’t think 'fun' is the word I’d use. But it was pretty fuckin’ 'good'.”

Sam lingered there with his lips next to Dean's and grinned, "Don't suppose you'd walk a girl home?" Sam was feeling pretty fucking good, it's not like the guy was going to kill him for teasing. Sam cupped Dean's cheek and kissed him slowly one last time before he headed towards the front door.

Dean reached out an arm, “Hey, wait,” He moved and grabbed his boxer briefs, pulling them on as he picked up his pants, “One sec alright?”

Sam nodded and watched Dean curiously, surely the guy had to know Sam was joking, right? He was big enough to take care of himself, and campus wasn't that far away.

The older man pulled his pants on and grabbed his shirt. He walked to Sam, kissing him again and picking up his jacket, “Look, uh... I don’t trust this area, Hell, I don’t trust my neighbor, I’m sure she has some kinda meth lab in there or somethin’, an’ probably watches me shower through the back window. So uh... Lemme drive you, alright? I’d feel a lot better if the guy I just had amazin' fuckin’ sex with was alive the next mornin’, an’ th'day after, okay?”

Sam raised his brows and nodded a little slower than usual, "Uh, okay. Thanks." Sam ran a hand through his hair and started moving back towards the door, then stopped, he turned back to Dean and flashed a cheeky grin, "Amazing, huh?"

“Don’t make me toot your goddamn horn,” Dean said, walking passed Sam and pushing the door open over the line of salt again. He looked out around the street, hands in his pockets, waiting for Sam before he locked up. "Though I wouldn't be hard to argue into that."

Sam walked out and gestured at the door, "Oh, is that salt?" Sam raised his brows. _Great_ , he just had sex with an incredibly hot whack job. Who puts salt in front of their doors anyways?

“I’m not sure,” Dean said, shrugging, “That woman next door, I told you. I **hope** it’s salt. But, I really don’t know. M’not home enough to really care about it too much.” He locked the door and turned to Sam, “She does it **constantly** though.”

"Weird," Sam muttered as he walked hip to hip with Dean to the car, "So back on topic, what would I have to do to get you to toot my horn?" Sam had to bite his lip in order to keep from laughing, it just sounded so ridiculous. He did, however, want to see Dean again.

“Flash me them goddamn dimples an’ I might consider it,” Dean chuckled, unlocking the car and breathing puffs of white cold in front of his face as he glanced around again before letting Sam into the Impala.

That actually made Sam smile so damn wide he thought it was going to break his face, he didn't even have to force it. It meant that Dean must like his dimples if that's all it would take. It's not like Sam had room to talk though, he already knew he was a sucker for Dean's 'fuck me' swagger; like walking sex on bowlegs.

Sam slid in and continued to smile to himself, yeah, he was glad he went out.

Dean started up the car and they drove in an unusually comfortable silence for a few minutes before he turned his head slightly to glance at the taller man, “Dorm rooms?”

Sam nodded while he looked out the window, "Yeah, I assume you know where they are?"

“Course I do,” Dean smirked, taking the next left turn before he reached over and flicked the radio on, the soft guitar of a familiar classic 80's song filtering through his speakers. He licked his lips, continuing to look at Sam from the corner of his vision.

"Doesn't surprise me," Sam grinned and shook his head, everything about Dean screamed 'playboy'. Sam was feeling a little bold, so he reached over and squeezed the inside of Dean's thigh playfully before retracting his hand back to his lap.

Dean raised a brow and turned to Sam then, looking at him with darkening eyes as he stopped his car for the red street light. He leaned over, grabbing Sam by the back of his neck and pulling him down for what seemed like a chaste kiss at first, before he was shoving his tongue into Sam’s mouth, their faces pushed together so hard it almost hurt.

The kiss took Sam by surprise, he noticed the green light out of the corner of his eye and chuckled, "It's green." It's not like it mattered though, the street was empty.

Dean turned away, licking his lips as he picked the car back up. He didn’t look at Sam again, didn’t watch him from his periphery, didn’t even glance to the other man until he’d arrived outside of the dorms and pulled along the curb, parking and turning slightly in his seat.

Sam could hear his heart thrumming - it was so quiet in the car. He turned a little towards Dean and smiled, "Thanks, man."

“Don’t mention it,” Dean responded, listening more to the soft growling of the Impala in wait than to Sam. He was trying to settle a distance between them, but he kept having this prickling of discomfort - trying to keep this man at arm’s length. He was stubborn though, leaving the conversation short and snipped, avoiding eye contact.

Sam watched him for a few seconds longer, unsure of what to do. _Just kiss him and go, don't look back_. It was difficult almost, willing his legs to move himself away from Dean.

He decided that another kiss would just make things more awkward and he didn't want that, he wanted to remember it for the awesome memory that it was. He grabbed the door handle and smiled at Dean one last time before exiting the Impala.

Dean sat in the car for a moment before he let up on the breaks and sped off. He tried not to seem _eager_ about leaving, but he was sure that was how it came off. Even then, even as he drove away, he felt this strong, tethered pull in his chest, trying to bring him back, but he ignored it.

Sam turned and watched the Impala practically burn out of the parking lot and he frowned, realizing that he'd never see Dean again. He went to his dorm room, crashed on the bed and stared at the ceiling for a good two hours before his brain gave up on figuring Dean out for the night.


	2. Chapter 2

Nearly the past two weeks Dean had drunken himself into a numb stupor, the only thing worse than drinking until you’re at that point is doing it alone, and he sat in his apartment, day after day, drinking himself under the table as the hours wore through.

He’d avoided work at the garage like the plague and often went home with the first winking eye he saw whenever he went to the bar. It was nearly seventeen days in - that he stopped caring about the display he’d become.

And as he was sitting at the table in the bar, alone, head buried against his forearms, drinking more and more until he became his father, he decided that he didn’t quite understand **why** he was feeling like complete shit. One guy, one guy doesn’t have this effect on **anybody** , one guy has no right.

Dean nearly slid off the side of the bar with the slur of words, patting the girl on the back and shaking his head, “No guy has that effect on anyone,” He repeated and moved, reaching over the bar to grab his keys.

Mac was there though, at once, taking his hand and shoving it back.

“Oh come on, Mac,” Dean said, reaching out again, “M’not that drunk. S’not even that long of a drive, I can do it."

The bartender stopped him again though and shook his head, “No.”

“Gimme my goddamn keys, old man,” Dean said louder, reaching out again to take them up.

Mac shoved him away this time, mostly to prove a point to the young man and Dean ended up stumbling back and landing hard on his ass, left wondering how the hell he ended up there. Maybe he **was** that drunk.

* * *

When Sam had thought maybe the one night stand with Dean was what he needed to help him survive the rest of the semester, he immediately thought different afterwards. The guy was a constant nagging thought in the back of his mind and no matter what Sam did, he couldn't shake him, Sam was constantly late for class or falling asleep with his face in his text books.

He was a little fed up with himself and how he was acting, so he thought maybe he'd go out and drink enough just to get a nice buzz going. Sam was going to forget about Dean if it was the last thing he'd do, of course he told himself that before he watched Dean fall flat on his ass in the bar.

Poor guy looked worse off than Sam, five o'clock shadow with blood shot eyes and was so damn drunk he couldn't stand. Sam was pretty well hidden at the corner of the bar, was constantly telling himself that he came here for himself, and no one else, except he also knew that was a lie.

It was painful to watch Dean stumble and try to pick himself up off the floor and, before Sam knew it, he had his hand wrapped firmly around Dean's forearm helping him up, "Hey man, you okay?"

“M’fine, goddamn it,” Dean’s brows narrowed, shaking his head, “How many times I gotta-” He stopped, eyes on Sam’s familiar shoes and his eyes went slowly up the long legs, the torso and broad shoulders before he saw the same goddamn eyes he'd been so fixated on the past two weeks. "Sonovabitch," He was looking up so straight that he lost his balance and started to fall back again, this time on his own.

"You don't exactly look fine," Sam narrowed his brows and swallowed heavily when he realized he was actually concerned about Dean's well being.

Sam put both of his hands on Dean's biceps to still him, he looked down into the blood shot emerald eyes, "You should let me drive you home," He smirked remembering what Dean had said, "You know, because I don't trust this area and I'd feel better If I knew the guy I had a one night stand with was alive tomorrow, and the day after."

Dean blinked slowly, staring up into Sam’s eyes, he teared up, feeling his mouth water before his head fell, forehead against Sam’s stomach as he threw up over the other man’s shoes.

Sam's eyes widened and he looked around the room and patted Dean on the top of his back, "Hey, c'mon, let's get you out of here," He wrapped an arm around Dean's waist and hoisted him up a little. Sam walked Dean up to the bar and nodded knowingly at Mac, "Need his keys, I'm gonna make sure his drunk ass gets home."

The bartender handed them over and smirked at Sam, "Take care of him, he's a stubborn bastard."

Sam pulled Dean away from the bar and headed towards the door with the slightly limp man wrapped in his arm, "You okay with me drivin' your baby?"

Dean groaned, wiping his mouth as he kept his head down, closing his eyes and stumbling along with Sam, trying to keep his legs moving forward, “Sorry ‘bout your shoes.” He sneered at the smell of vomit, the taste of it on his breath and looked around, “Hold on, lemme get ‘nother beer.”

"That's the last thing you need," Sam tightened his grip on Dean's waist as he walked him out of the bar, thankfully his car was sitting where it was last time, right in the front. Sam opened the passenger side door with his left hand and maneuvered Dean around and sat him down into the car, he slid his legs in for him and shut the door before he went around and climbed into the driver's side seat.

His eyes slid along the dashboard before he put the keys in and started the ignition, smiling at the rumble of the engine. He looked over to Dean and damn near felt his heart skip a beat before he put the car in drive and pulled out.

Dean dropped his head back over the seat, staring up at the roof of the Impala as he tried to figure out what was going on. He was so drunk he was having a hard time thinking straight. What had Sam even been **doing** at the bar? Dean hadn’t seen him in over two weeks. Why now? Why was he even bothering with the man that fucked him and then practically shoved him out of the house once it was done?

It was a short drive, but long enough to make Sam question why he was doing this. _Because you got feelings for the guy, that's why_. He parked in front of the apartment complex and shut the car off, he patted Dean on the leg, "Wake up, man. You're home."

He got out and walked around to the passenger side to pull Dean out, his body just as much dead weight in Sam's arms as before. He managed to get Dean to his door, Sam fiddled with the keys and got it open. He drug him into the apartment and closed the door behind him, he looked around the room and noticed heaps of empty beer bottles laying everywhere.

Sam sighed pretty loudly, but he knew Dean wouldn't notice, was pretty sure he wouldn't even remember how he got home in the morning. Sam got Dean to walk down the hallway with him and he pulled him into the bathroom and made him sit down on the toilet, "Sit there for a sec."

Dean’s head slumped down between his legs and he pressed his knees to his ears as he tried to keep himself upright more-or-less. His mouth tasted horrible, if he could just get another beer, he’d be fine.

Sam found Dean's toothbrush, ran water over the bristles and applied a more than generous amount of toothpaste before he knelt down between Dean's legs.

Sam used one hand to push him back a little, "Here, open up."

Dean sat up, “Hmm?” He asked, brows knitted together and he nearly lost balance again, “Dude, trust me, openin’ up for anythin’ ain’t gonna end well.”

"Just trust me, okay," Sam offered the toothbrush again, "You'll thank me in the morning."

“Doubt it,” Dean said, sighing and opening his mouth.

Sam shook his head and brushed Dean's teeth for him, he almost laughed at how absurd it was. When he was done he rinsed the toothbrush off and put it back, then ran cool water into the cup that was sitting on the sink, found some Advil and handed both of them to Dean, "Here, take this."

Dean took them at once, head lolling forward and he saw Sam’s shoes again, “You should really clean those.” He stood, one hand grabbing tightly onto the larger man's shirt to help himself become vertical.

"I will, don't worry about me. Now take this," Sam put the pills up to Dean's mouth and waited for him to swallow before he raised the cup to his lips. Sam leaned over and grabbed a clean rag from the towel rack and soaked it with cool water, he squeezed out the excess the best he could and began wiping Dean's face gently, "You're in pretty rough shape, man. What the hell happened?"

Dean started to shake his head but apparently he couldn’t control both his mouth and his motor controls at the same time, “You,” He said, throat raw and sore as he tried to pull his face away.

He winced at the admission, but he really had no where else to go, he couldn’t keep this up, just being around the man, even fucking drunk and miserable with vomit breath, he felt considerably better than he had the entire past two weeks.

Sam could feel his throat tighten, he didn't say anything, he just laid the rag back on the sink and walked Dean out of the bathroom. The guy was drunk, _he didn't know what he was saying_. He led Dean back to his bedroom, which Sam remembered all too vividly.

Sam sat Dean down on the edge of his bed and tugged at his coat, pulling it off of him, "Let's get you in bed so I can get out of here."

“No, wait,” Dean reached up, brows tightening together as he grabbed Sam’s arms, pulling him down until Dean could take a firm hold on the other man, he latched in, forcing their faces together, pressing his lips to Sam’s, fists buried in the hair at the back of the younger man’s neck.

Sam hesitated a second before he pulled away from Dean, he rested his hand on the older man's shoulder, "Not right now, okay? Not while you're like this." Sam lifted him back up and walked him around to the side of his bed and sat him back down, he pushed him back so that he'd lay down, "Stay right there, I'll be right back."

He walked into the kitchen and looked underneath the sink and found an empty bucket, he returned and placed it beside the bed, "There's a bucket right next to you if you feel like you're gonna get sick again." He didn't want to go, but he figured, if Dean wanted to find him, he knew where to look. Sam leaned down and kissed him on the forehead, "I'm gonna head out now, okay? Try to get some rest."

Dean sighed weakly and dropped back, feet still on the floor as he laid on the bed, slowly rolling onto his side. Goddamn, he’d fucked up so bad this time; sleeping with a guy and then falling for them when **clearly** the guy wasn’t interested. Hell, Dean wasn’t interested in it becoming anything either.

He groaned, what the fuck was wrong with him? How did this even **happen**? He barely talked to the other man, even the sex had been fast... He’d had longer conversations with a goddamn **wall** , and here he was, drinking himself into being driven home by the very same guy that didn’t even give a shit about him. This was so many kinds of messed up. He’d think about it later though, there was no point trying to sort things out like this.

Sam watched Dean for a few minutes before he left the bedroom. He'd never gone out of his way quite like this with anyone else, to take care of someone. Sam rummaged through the drawers in the kitchen to find a pen and a piece of paper, he scribbled ink onto the notepad and put it under a magnet on the fridge. It was simple enough, it read:

_If you're sober enough to read my chicken scratch, your car keys are on top of the fridge. Take better care of yourself.  - S_

Sam looked around the room and decided to trash all the empty beer bottles before he left. When he felt satisfied enough, he opened the front door and shut it behind himself; only slightly hesitant that he couldn't lock it up.

It was a chilly walk back to his dorm room, but it'd give him a chance to finally clear his head without every other thought being about Dean.

* * *

Dean had woken up the next morning, stiff as a board, finding the hand-written note tacked to his refrigerator. He went from being miserable and hungover to pissed and hungover within a second of reading it, crumpling the paper in his fist and leaving the kitchen once he’d grabbed his keys. He was so bent out of shape because of that asshole, and he had the **nerve** to tell Dean to take care of himself.

Dean opened the Maxwell House container on the kitchen counter and grumbled; _of course_. It was nearly twelve in the afternoon anyways, and he was too annoyed at this point that shopping probably wouldn’t make things worse.

He stopped at the front door and shuddered at the broken salt line. He’d went a whole night unprotected, of course, because he’d been drunk, and Sam thought the lady next door did it. That being another reason why he couldn’t even **begin** to bother with a serious relationship; he had far too many secrets.

Dean grabbed his jacket, stepping into his untied boots and left the house, keys clutched in his fist as he climbed into the car, started her up and sped off to the nearest grocery store.

* * *

Sam didn't get hardly any sleep that night, practically worried sick over Dean. Stupid thoughts like _what if he chokes on his puke and stops breathing?_ And _what if he tries to get up, falls and hits his head?_

He was so sick and tired of thinking about Dean, he was literally losing sleep over the fucker. His stomach growled and Sam moaned, he knew he was in dire need of a good kitchen re-stock. He slid on his other pair of shoes, vomit free, and headed out.

Thank God it was a short walk to the grocery store just down the road.

* * *

Dean rubbed his forehead as he made a direct beeline for the coffee, taking up one of the larger containers that mirrored his brand at home. He checked his pocket, thumbing his wallet as he turned back to the front of the store and stopped when his eyes fell on, wouldn’t you know it, fucking Sam Campbell, standing there with wide eyes in all of his glory, the same man that **wasn’t** as miserable as **_he_ was** right now.

Mr. Perfect - with his course on pre-law and that stupid fucking haircut and those stupid fucking sideburns and the goddamn stupid fucking dimples. It was everything he could do not to chuck the container of coffee at the other man.

The last thing Sam expected, and sure as hell the last thing he needed, was to run into Dean again. It was bad enough he couldn't get the asshole out of his head.

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his tired eyes as he walked up to him, against his better judgement, "Well, you don't look like **complete** death." It was really starting to grate on Sam's nerves how little this town seemed.

Dean bristled at once, his surprised stare hardening into a seriously violent glare, “Yeah, well you **do** ,” He countered, a weak, stupid counter, but he hoped it got the point across, “Save it for some fuckin’ fairy, an’ do me the favor of not fuckin’ helpin’ me, next time.”

Sam straightened his back and stared at Dean incredulously, "What the hell is wrong with you?" Sam shook his head curiously, unsure of why Dean was being so hostile, "You're pissed because I helped you last night?"

“I’m pissed because you’re a goddamn **prick** ,” Dean said, practically spitting the last word in Sam’s face as his eyes darkened, he looked over the larger man’s body, feeling the longing, the want, trying to be disgusted at what he saw, getting **more** pissed when he failed miserably, “Just stay out of my goddamn business from now on.”

"Do you even hear yourself? I didn't do anything other than try to help you last night," Sam's brows furrowed and he wondered where the Dean that liked his dimples went. He could feel his stomach clenching sickly, he had no clue what was even going on.

Sam's facial features were still soft, he couldn't feel the same amount of anger towards Dean if he tried, "I didn't even get any sleep last night 'cause I was worried sick that your drunk ass was gonna do something stupid." He wasn't sure why he offered that piece of information.

“Yeah? Wanna go your life with a clear goddamn conscious, princess?”

Dean rolled his eyes, ignoring the ounce of hope Sam’s comment sparked inside of him. He hadn’t heard it right. The goddamn moron only lost sleep because he didn’t want to feel guilty about Dean dying, “S’not like you actually care about a damn thin' I do. So why don’t you just fuckin’ leave me alone and move on with your fuckin’ perfect life and let me manage mine in some kinda peace.”

"Look," Sam moved in closer as he stared at Dean seriously, he was about fed up, "I understand that you _obviously_ regret meeting me and I'm sorry that I'm such an insufferable prick in your eyes-" He backed up and looked Dean over once, "Just wish I could feel the same way about you."

If Sam was being completely honest with himself, Dean's words cut deeper than he expected them to. Then again, he never would have in a million years expected Dean to act like this towards him. He had no clue what he even did to deserve this, especially when all he could think about **was** Dean.

He shook his head at Dean like he didn't even really know how he ever felt anything for him in the first place and began to walk away.

Dean actually **was** pissed off enough then, too much, and he didn’t stop himself this time from throwing the nearest thing he had at Sam; the carton of coffee grounds.

And, while it missed the moron, it hit the shelf **near** him and burst, grounds smattering Sam’s clothes and covering him nearly head to foot in the stuff. Dean felt nothing but complete, satisfying victory watching it happen.

Sam stood still and shook his head, trying to get the coffee out of his hair. He turned to look at Dean in shock almost, the fucker was acting like a two year old, "I can't even fathom why I was ever interested in you." Sam tried to use past tense, even though he still cared for the asshole.

“Because I’m a good lay, and an' eager bottom,” Dean said, eyebrows going up and he smirked, “F’I knew you were goin' to be fuckin’ poison in my goddamn brain every wakin’ moment afterwards, an' that you'd put yourself on some fuckin' pedestal - like I was lucky enough to have fucked you in the first place I woulda never let you stick it in me.” He moved, grabbing another carton of the coffee grounds.

"Well, don't be modest now, 'bright eyes'," Sam was actually getting a little angry, which was odd for him because it rarely happened. He closed the distance between them again and glared down into Dean's stupid green eyes, "If I still didn't like your ignorant ass so much, I'd fucking hit you right now."

“I dare you to,” Dean said, glaring up at Sam, so furious he barely glanced the other man’s words before he was burning up at the sudden aggression on Sam’s face, “Just cause you fucked me doesn’t mean I’m some goddamn pussy like you’re so use to, college boy. Not only can I take a hit, but I can give you one right back, an’ trust me, you don’t wanna be hit by me - you ain’t comin’ up from it, you fuckin’ asshole.”

Sam almost broke out into a laugh and he stroked Dean's cheek with his thumb - just to rile him up a little more, "Wouldn't wanna mess up that pretty face of yours." It was like Dean was only hearing what he wanted to hear, never mind the fact that Sam just told Dean he liked him.

Dean grabbed Sam by the collar of his shirt and shoved him into the shelves nearby, holding him in place as Dean breathed through his nose. His hangover was so heavy and violent at this point that he wasn’t even thinking straight, “You goddamn _bitch_ ,” He seethed, teeth baring with his rage.

Sam grimaced when Dean knocked the air out of him, but then he smirked because God _damn_ was he sexy when he was pissed.

He leaned in, pushing forwards under Dean's grip and growled low enough just so Dean would be the only one to hear him, "Anyone ever tell you how fuckin' hot you are when you're pissed off?"

“What?” Dean blinked, eyes widening in confusion as he stared at Sam, “You fuckin’ asshole, you’ve got some nerve, sayin’ that to me,” He pushed himself off of Sam by shoving the larger man further into the shelves against his back, and Dean grabbed the coffee container once more, from where he’d dropped it, “I didn’t realize you were such a goddamn **dick**.”

Sam dropped his head and chuckled, this was getting ridiculous. He kept practically putting himself out there, and all Dean got from it every time was that Sam was being a dick. One thing was for sure, this asshole was under his skin and he was too deep to dig out.

"I'm a dick because I like you, tried to help you, _and_ because I find you attractive? Alright, Dean, you win," Sam huffed and pushed himself off of the shelf and started down the aisle.

Dean stopped, watching the man walking away, the coffee grounds still clinging to him and his entire body shuddered at the words, “You... You what?”

He felt like his stomach had fallen into his feet, a feeling he’d never experienced before and his eyes widened as he took the words in, putting them with everything else that had happened. _Dean Winchester, some times you’re a fucking idiot._

Sam turned around and looked at Dean bitterly, "What? You want me to say it again just so you can call me a dick?" Sam frowned and shook his head, "Think I'll pass, I'm done tryin'."

“Oh, alright, that’s enough already,” Dean moved, crunching over coffee grounds spilt all over the grocery store floor as he moved to Sam, “I’m not thick-skulled enough to **continue** this goddamn circle-jerk  of 'he said', 'he said'.”

He was aware of the people around them, but - considering everything **else** that had already transpired in front of them - he grabbed Sam’s shirt and pulled him down to a somewhat rough, quick kiss, enough to get his point across. _I understand, you fucking stubborn man._

Sam smiled a little when Dean pulled away from the kiss, "Mac was right, you are a stubborn bastard."

Dean let out a heavy, tired breath and rolled his eyes, “I could say the same damn thin’ about you.”

Sam leaned down again, taking the initiative as he pressed his lips to Dean's a little slower, humming in approval, "So what happened to your one night rule?"

“Never had one,” Dean responded weakly, his legs feeling like jell-o all of a sudden, “Look, can we talk about this some where else. ‘Less you want the entire store knowin’ ‘bout our sex lives.”

Sam forgot what he even came here for, he nodded and started walking towards the front of the store, "Then what was the bullshit you fed me on that first night about it being just 'once'?"

Dean walked along beside him, carton of coffee held in his grip, “What I mean is, I don’t have like a ‘one-night rule’. It’s... More like a one fuck, never know more‘n that kinda thing. Not a rule, not somethin’ I hold to... I just-I don’t get ‘serious’, with anyone. I don’t get to know ‘em, I don’t learn anythin’ really beyond their name. S’not like a rule, it’s... It’s just what I _do_.”

"Why do you close yourself off like that?" Sam looked at Dean, wondering why in the world someone like him would do that, "I'm sure there are people who'd like a chance to be able to make you happy. God knows **I** would."

“I just don’t _do_ relationships, man,” Dean chuckled, feeling the words hit somewhere home that he struggled over, “It’s...It’s not my thing, it’s not what I do, I...I don’t get close, I can’t.”

"You need to open up to somebody eventually. All that baggage you carry around is gonna end up crushing you someday if you don't find someone else to help carry the load," Sam nudged Dean's side playfully and smiled warmly.

Dean frowned and shook his head, “No,” He said, stopping for a moment and looking at Sam, “No, I can’t do that. I don’t have a choice in this. Talkin’ to someone else? There **is** no one else. There’s no one to talk to about these things. I mean... Bein’ with you... I’ve never felt so... Connected, with someone else, not in my whole life, not even with my dad."

"An’... An’ even you... I can’t, Sam. I can’t be **with** you, I can't talk to you, I can't let you in. I can't _anythin'_ with you. Even though I want to. I still can't.”

"How heavy is the baggage on your back, man?" Sam tried to convey his sincerity, "You think that just because I'm a college boy that I can't handle it? 'Cause if it means I get to learn more about you, I **can** handle it. I want to."

“You don’t wanna know, trust me,” Dean said, pulling out cash for his single carton of coffee grounds and smiling at the woman before turning to Sam once more, “Why do you think I keep people at that distance? They **don’t** wanna know. Half the time even **I** don’t. It's just easier, not to share a burden like that with another person.”

"That's where you're wrong, I do want to know," Sam shifted nervously and lowered his voice, "What is it? You got some life threatening disease or somethin'?"

Dean raised a brow before he started laughing, to him it might’ve sounded like it had a slight touch of insanity to it, and it probably did, but he shook his head, grinning ear to ear, “God, **no**. No, it’s nothin’ like that. Really, I **wish** it were that easy.”

He sobered up at once, licking his lips and his eyes stilled on Sam’s shirt, “I wish it were that easy.”

"I'll get it out of you, one way or another," Sam grinned like he knew it was just a matter of time and ushered Dean out the front of the store.

“No, you won’t,” Dean said once they were out of earshot of anyone else, “Listen, Sam.” He stopped the larger man, “You **can’t** be a part of this. I won’t let you. You even try an’, so help me, Sam, you’ll be back out there at arm's length. I can’t have you bein’ a part of... Of anythin’. You understand?"

"I... For whatever reason, I have somethin’, for you. I know I do. I don’t know what it is, but it’s more’n I’ve had before. An’ I can’t lose you to this, I can’t. God help me, I can’t put you in that position. No matter how much I want somethin’ with you, or want to be around you or... Or fuck you, or anythin’. I can’t do it. I won’t risk it.”

Sam rolled his eyes and tucked his hands in his pockets, "My God, you remind me so much of my Mom, never lettin' me do anything even though I'm old enough to take responsibility for my actions."

“S’not a matter of age, goddammit,” Dean hissed, grabbing Sam’s forearm and staring at him, sickly serious, “I can’t risk your **life**. My baggage isn’t just somethin’ stupid and normal. It’s not some fuckin’ disease, it’s not a bad break up or somethin’ that can be **fixed**. An’ if I got you involved, even in the slightest, it’d be puttin’ you right in the line of fire. An’ I could do that with maybe the umpteenth billion other people I’ve fucked, but I can’t do that to you.”

Sam returned the look, his face serious, "Okay," Sam nodded numbly, "Alright." He wanted to protest, but the look on Dean's face told him not to, and that was enough for Sam.

Dean nodded, visibly relaxing as he squeezed Sam’s arm more, he pulled the tall man down, pressed a shaky, chaste kiss to his lips before standing back, “Good.” He turned, fighting back his emotions as he reached into his pocket for the keys to the Impala, the tether struggling against him as he started walking away.

Sam stood there, looking visibly stunned as he tried figuring out what had just happened. He had no clue what was going on between him and Dean, but he knew there was something there.

"Yeah, alright. I guess I'll see you later, or not," Sam whispered to himself after Dean was out of earshot.

Dean climbed into the Impala, putting the coffee in the backseat as he started to wipe his eyes. It hurt, more than anything, goddamn. As much pain as he’d been through, everything with his father, their demons, both literal and not, nothing had ever hurt this bad. For once, Dean was denying himself of something that he **really** wanted.


	3. Chapter 3

It'd been about a week since their run in at the grocery store. Sam hadn't seen Dean anywhere, including the bar. He thought he'd take it upon himself to surprise Dean with some coffee or something, just an excuse to see him really, because it wasn't like he was making an attempt to find Sam.

He was shivering as he clutched two steaming hot cups of coffee to his chest when he used his foot to knock hard on Dean's door. He wasn't sure what to expect, it wouldn't surprise him any if Dean turned him away though.

Dean had been in and out of the apartment long enough to work and get back home to the drinking game he was playing with himself, rolling each emptied bottle under the corner of the sofa so he didn’t have to see it anymore.

He stood when he heard the odd thump-thump coming from door, rolling his shoulders and walking to it with the buzz of three bottles already in his system. He unlocked and opened up, breaking the salt line and looking out.

His stomach dropped, eyes widening at the young man standing on his ‘Welcome’ mat, “Sam?”

Sam smiled dimly, able to smell alcohol as soon as Dean opened the door, "That's what people usually call me. Coffee?" Sam felt guilty for not checking up on Dean earlier, but he didn't want Dean to think he was clingy.

Dean rolled his eyes and walked back in, leaving the door open as he stepped across the living room, "No," He said, sitting on the couch once more.

Sam walked in and sat both cups of coffee on the table so he could join Dean on the couch, "You seem like a bundle of joy today. What's going on?"

"Same old, I guess," Dean avoided Sam's eyes, trying to ignore the pull in his chest - towards the taller man, "What're you doin' here?"

Sam turned a little on the couch to observe Dean's face, the five o'clock shadow apparent again along with bags under Dean's bloodshot eyes, "I'm here because I wanted to see you, what other reason would I have?"

Dean cleared his throat, turning his face away, "When I left you at the store, I meant to leave you for 'ever', not just the day - not a short while. Don't you understand?"

Sam's chest tightened and he frowned, "No," He shook his head slightly, "You don't get to make me care about you and then expect me to keep my distance."

"M'doin' it to myself too, but I can't risk your life, Sam," Dean argued, standing up and looking down at the other man, "I can't do this, not at all. I can't risk your life."

"What do you mean _'risk my life_ '? Are you part of the mafia or something," Sam looked up at Dean, nothing he said ever made a lick of sense.

Dean narrowed his brows, "Yeah, uh... Somethin' like that, I guess..." It was the best explanation he had, without telling the truth.

Sam's eyes widened slightly, "Wait, **seriously**?" Dean was so adamant about Sam not knowing, it almost blew Sam's mind that he'd willingly admit something like that, "And how exactly are you risking my life? It's not like I'm anything important to you, don't they usually go after people you care about?"

Before Dean could even answer, Sam started up again, "What the hell did you do to piss the mafia off anyway?"

Dean growled as he tried to answer, “Look, Sam, it’s not the goddamn mafia, okay? It’s _like_ that, it’s... It’s nothin’ I can explain, alright? An’ it’s not safe, not for anyone aroun’ me. I can’t tell you **exactly** what it is, you’re just gonna have to trust me okay?”

He looked at the young man still on the couch, “There are things out there that would like to know I have a weakness, an’ I can’t **have** one. Do you understan’ me? I can’t have friends, I can’t have relationships, I can’t have anythin’ with anyone that isn’t fuck an’ go. It **can’t** be more than that. The thin’s I do... Thin’s I’ve done... Gettin’ you into somethin’ like that, even for a moment... You’d be on the radar for the rest of your life.”

"What if that's what I want?" Sam's voice shook a little. He was almost certain he was completely delirious, either that, or he cared more for Dean than he wanted to admit. His mother would kill him if she knew what he was trying to get himself into.

“It doesn’t matter what you want,” Dean said, turning away from Sam, “It’s **not** what **I** want, an’ without me sayin’ anythin’ you can’t really know about it. You’ve got no say in this.”

But god he wanted to tell Sam, knowing that the other man would be in danger, he’d kill to have someone, a partner, someone to hold at night, when the terrors of creatures he'd dealt with became too much. He wanted it more than anything. But he refused to risk Sam’s life, just for that. He didn’t deserve that comfort, the luxury of a partner.

"Hey," Sam pushed off of the couch and caught Dean's arm, he turned him back around to face him, "You like me, right?" Sam wasn't sure what he was doing, but he needed to do something before Dean pushed him away any further.

Dean looked up at Sam, his chest tightening in pain as he dropped his head, he couldn’t meet eye to eye with this man. He couldn’t **do** this. He wasn’t use to feeling this way, or dealing with these kinds of emotions. It was too much to bare.

“Sam, don’t-”

"Just listen for a minute," Sam tried crouching to get Dean to look at him, "If your _secret_ baggage didn't exist, so to speak. Would you think that you and I had potential?"

“Sam-” Dean swallowed and blinked, trying to keep his mask in check, “Please don’t. I can’t, I can’t even think about that. I can’t even consider it.” But the thoughts were already coming in, twisting up in his mind.

Sam was practically pleading with Dean, "Would you just answer the damn-" Sam grabbed his head, there was such a sharp pain, it practically felt like his head was in a vice, "Fuck!" Sam fell to his knees and tried to will it away, the pain was almost unbearable.

His eyes were closed, but it was like he could see these wild flames and the distant sound of a man yelling. Sam tried applying pressure with his hands to make it stop, it was almost like he could feel the heat of the fire on his own skin.

“Sam?” Dean crouched down, grabbing the other man’s arms, “Sam? SAM!” He combed the hair out of Sam’s face, “Hey, hey, you lookit me. What’s wrong?” He didn’t know what to do, what to say. Was this normal for the other man? Was it some kind of fit? His stomach twisted violently in fear.

The pain dissipated as soon as Dean had started talking to him and Sam looked up at Dean with wide, wet eyes, confused over what had just happened. It was worse than any headache he'd ever had, but it wasn't really like a headache at all.

His chest felt tight, almost like he'd inhaled to much smoke, which was impossible, "I d-don't know."

“What-what happened, what was that?” Dean frowned, gripping Sam tight, wide eyes staring into the other man’s, “Are you okay?”

Sam was still a little bewildered by the whole situation, "I really don't know," Sam shook his head, "It hurt, it was like... I don't know how to explain it, you'd think I'm crazy."

Dean chuckled, still worried, but trying not to be, he pulled Sam in, thumbs running through the other man's sideburns as he willed his heart rate down, “You’d be surprised. _Try me_.”

"When the pain wasn't too overwhelming, it was like I was getting bits and pieces of a... a _vision_? Sounds even crazier saying it out loud," Sam laid his hand over Dean's and sighed, "I should uh... I should get home, make an appointment or something."

“A vision?” Dean swallowed, unable to stop the next question from coming out, “A vision of what?”

"That's the weird part, it doesn't make **any** sense," Sam tried to stand up, "There was a fire, I could make out that much and I could hear a man yelling."

Dean felt his arms become considerably numb and he stood Sam back up, “Sam...” He licked his lips, turning and looking at the broken salt line; suddenly feeling very, **very** naked.

He moved from the other man, pulling up the bag of salt from the hall closet and fixing the line on the door.

"What?" Sam watched Dean and, if he thought the vision didn't make any sense, watching Dean spread salt in front of the door **really** didn't make any sense, "What are you doing? I told you, I need to go home."

Sam moved a little towards the door. It didn't add up, Dean had told him that he thought the neighbor lady was putting that stuff in front of his door.

Dean moved, grabbing Sam’s arms and pulling him from the entrance, “Don’t, Sam,” He drew the larger man towards the bedroom, backing from the door and turning to look at him, “Look, I don’t know what’s goin’ on with your vision shit, but-” He couldn’t have Sam mixed up in this, whatever was happening, it wasn’t safe. “I need you to calm down an’ trust me. Do you **trust** me?”

"I want to trust you, but I have a feeling you've been lying to me," Sam looked away from Dean, "I don't really understand what's going on, but I'm starting to freak out a little, man. I just want to go home." He felt almost exhausted after the vision, like his whole body was sluggish.

“Trust me when I say you’re not safe goin’ home,” Dean pleaded, forcing Sam to look him in the eyes, “Please, Sam. You have to trust me with this.”

"So what then?" Sam's eyes widened, "I'm just supposed to stay here?" He had more exams tomorrow and despite how freaked out he was over his _vision_ , Sam still had priorities.

“I don’t know,” Dean turned from Sam, his chest tightening, “I didn’t want this. I tried, goddamn. Sam, _I tried so hard_. I’m... I don’t know what to do. I didn’t want you to be a part of this.” His eyes felt wet, he could barely see.

"Be a part of what, Dean?" Sam sat down on the edge of the other man's bed and cradled his head in his hands, "I think you need to start answering questions, I deserve that much."

It almost pained Sam to see the look of both sheer terror and hurt on Dean's face, he just wanted to make it better. Then again, Sam was just a little creeped out, so that would have to wait.

Dean sat down beside Sam, trying to keep himself calm, “The vision, the one you had, that really happened. That’s **my** life. That happened to me. That... that was my childhood. When I was five years old there was a fire in our house an’... An’ now you’re seein’ it...”

"Why am I seeing something from **your** past? It doesn't make any sense," Sam turned slightly towards Dean and laid his palm flat on the other man's knee.

“I don’t know, I don’t know,” Dean shook his head, “I’ve been out of the loop with this stuff for a long time now, but... It’s not good. I know it’s not good. It means that you're already a part of this, an'... An' I can't stop it from happenin' now. You're not safe.”

"There you go again with the whole _a part of this_ speech and I still don't even understand what the hell you're talking about," Sam stood up and shrugged, there had to be another explanation, "It was just a coincidence, millions of houses catch on fire. Listen, I really need to go." It **had** to be a fluke, Sam thought he was going to pass out, this was all a little too much too soon.

“It’s not, okay?” Dean shook his head, grabbing Sam’s wrist and staring him in the eyes, “With this, there are no coincidences, Sam. Nothin’ happens on accident. Please,” His eyes stung, “Please trust me.”

"I shouldn't trust you, but god _damn_ it, everything in me wants to," Sam contemplated the fact that maybe Dean was just messing with him, this was **all** just a big prank that his buddies were behind, "Wait, you're just fuckin' with me, right? Someone put you up to this, you were never even interested in me. It was set up from the beginning."

Dean pulled back from Sam, looking at the larger man, eyes wet and wide, “How... How can you even say that?” He felt his insides twist sickly, the ache so sharp that he could feel it in his hands, “You think this is some kinda sick, goddamn joke? You think I would do that to you?”

"How am I supposed to know what you're capable of when you won't even let me in?" Sam pressed his finger softly at Dean's chest then deflated when his theory was busted. He felt so lightheaded, maybe if he just passed out and then woke up, he'd realize it was all just a weird dream.

Dean moved away, making distance from the other man and shaking his head, “I want so bad to just tell you to leave, to just get out of my fuckin' house. But... I’ve already said, I don’t wanna see you dead tomorrow. Still, I don’t wanna see your goddamn face right now. Just go to sleep.”

A mixture of both panic and the anger directed at Sam from Dean was too much, he felt his steps falter slightly, it looked like Dean was going to get exactly what he wanted, "Dean, I think... I think I'm gonna-"

Right before Sam's body went limp and he passed out, he convinced himself this was a good thing. He needed to calm down, he knew he was taking this out on Dean when he didn't need to.

* * *

Dean stayed by the bed, watching over Sam through the night, keeping a cool, wet rag on the other man’s forehead. He’d called his father, but John had never answered, so it’d have to wait.

He buried his face in his hands, feeling at complete unrest as he attended to the larger man. He was hurt, upset, and worried. Every thing that had happened between them was too much for him at this point and, considering he tried to be as emotionlessly involved as he could, he was sort of freaking out now.

Sam was in this, stuck in it now, and Dean was too disgusted to even think of the guy. The person he’d been fucking pining over for the past few weeks, and he didn’t even **trust** Dean. Now his life was in danger, because he’d fucked Dean, and because he wouldn’t leave him alone.

When Sam finally woke up, being asleep for God knows how long gave him a chance to cool down. He remembered freaking out and making this worse on Dean than intended. Granted, things still didn't make any sense, but Sam knew he needed to try and stay level headed about it.

Sam sat up a little towards the headboard and rubbed his eyes, noticing Dean by the bed, "How long was I out?"

Dean looked away, his fists one over the other before his mouth, “‘Bout four hours,” He said, trying to ignore the stings of pain running from the sides of his fingers to his heart.

"So all of that really happened then," Sam asked rhetorically and sat up straighter, he hung his legs off the bed next to Dean's, "I uh... I'm sorry for freakin' out on you earlier." The hurt on Dean's face was apparent and it rubbed Sam the wrong way when he couldn't pin point the source. _Did I do that?_

Dean stood up from his chair and left the room. He couldn’t look at Sam anymore, it fucking _hurt_ to do so. Just thinking that he’d even had the... The tiniest chance to be with someone, ever, that he’d felt connected with the other man. To have him not believe Dean, to... It just hurt. It hurt more than anything he’d ever felt.

He hated being forced to be here, to have to watch over Sam when all he wanted to do was shove the man out of his house and drown himself in alcohol. The pain was so bad that he was shaking with it.

"Dean?" Sam scrambled out of the bed and followed Dean into the other room, confused as to why he wasn't talking, "What did I do to aggravate you this time?"

It was like a vicious cycle with this guy, he was always mad at Sam for one reason or another. Sam tried, so it wasn't like he could just shake Dean off like their time together didn't mean anything. There were times when Sam would already be on the way to see Dean before he even realized where he was going, of course he'd always stop and go back home, but the point still remained.

“Look, I’m sorry I put you in this situation,” Dean said, sitting on the couch and hunching over, shoving his head between his knees, he just needed two fucking seconds alone. He was so tired, so worn, so worried and terrified for the other man - so guilty, he felt so guilty for bringing Sam into all of this.

And, while he knew Sam had been interested in him for two seconds there, the fact that the other man didn’t even trust him... Dean couldn’t get over that.

"Ima try an' get you out of it, I'll try, but I..."

"It's not like you **made** me have a vision, right? How could you? Not possible," Sam leaned up against the wall, almost afraid to get too close to Dean even though he wanted to, "I don't blame you for it." **God** , Sam just wanted to sit down next to him and rub his back or something. It was easy enough to see, Dean was wound so tight he looked like he was going to explode.

“It **is** my fault,” Dean tried to breathe, shaking his head as he closed his eyes, “I give you two seconds more time'n anyone else I been with an’ then this happens? That’s not just a fuckin’ coincidence. An’ now... Now I... I don’t know what to do.” He looked up at Sam, tears brimming in his eyes, “I don’t know how to save you from this.”

"Hey," Sam moved closer and sat down next to Dean, his hands itching to wipe the tears away, "Please don't put this on yourself." Sam still had no clue really what was even going on, but it was clear that Dean thought it was something serious, "I didn't ask you to save me."

Dean shook his head, “You don’t even understand. You have no idea.” He pushed his fist against his lips, turning away from Sam once more. His head hurt so bad, he didn’t want to have to think about this right now.

He’d **left** that life, for the most part. That didn’t mean he forgot it, but he didn’t go out seeking it anymore, like his father. If Sam was being brought into it, how did he tackle something like that? What did it _mean_? “I don’t know what to do. I don’t want you to be a part of this. There has to be some way to stop it.”

"You're right, I don't understand," Sam sat back on the couch, "Will you please just look at me?" Dean hadn't really looked directly at him since the vision happened.  
Dean swallowed sickly and straightened up, turning to look at Sam, eyes worn, ragged, scared, tired, desperate for escape like the rest of him.

“M’ sorry. This is my fault. But, I... I’ll fix it. I have to.”

Sam reached out and rested his hand on Dean's cheek, letting his thumb run along the scruff as he stared at the other man. Sam drew him in for a hug and wrapped his arms around him before he could just pull away, his nose was pressed to Dean's temple as he placed a kiss next to his tired looking eyes, "If being around me is what's doing this to you then I'm sorry, sorry for not keeping my distance." Which was slightly ironic, considering Sam was hugging Dean like he couldn't let him go, didn't want to let him go.

As much as Dean wanted to shove Sam away, to seriously fucking deck the man, or kick him out of the apartment, Dean found himself leaning into the contact - needing it. He’d probably never get it again, either Sam was going to leave, or die, or Dean would find some way to separate Sam from his life again, make some distance and never look back. He had to enjoy this cold comfort while he had it.

His eyes closed, the single tear falling down his cheek as he fought himself back from latching onto the larger man.

Sam sighed and let go, "I could always just leave, I'd be one less thing on your plate."

It was becoming painfully obvious that Dean didn't want much to do with Sam anymore. He absentmindedly wiped Dean's cheek with his hand and looked towards the door. Sam didn't know what to do, everything he did infuriated the other man.

“Even if I **wanted** you to go, you can’t,” Dean said, taking Sam’s hand and pressing it to his lips. God, he wanted this so bad. It was so hard to fight back. “I can’t leave you to fend for yourself against this.”

Sam's eyes were caught on Dean's lips and it felt like his chest was on fire, like he forgot how to breathe, "You **do** want me to go though." It was supposed to be a one night stand, how did they end up here? How did Sam get so strung out on this guy?

"I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be defending myself against, but I can do it. You can go back to whatever you were doing before, it'll be like I never even existed," It hurt to say it, because he knew it wouldn't be easy to forget Dean like that.

“I don’t **want** you to go, I mean... I should. I should hate you for not trustin’ me, thinkin’ I was... That I would joke about this. Goddamn, I **wish** I was. But I’m not. An’ I want you,” Dean said, staring into the other man’s eyes as he leaned in, pressing his forehead to Sam’s, “You need to understand that. I want you so bad, Sam, in ways I’ve never wanted anyone before. I don’t **do** this, I don’t do anythin’ more’n just sex, just fuckin’. I _want_ this. I want to... To be able to have this. But my life, the way it is, there are things I know that’ll put you at risk. An’ now you’re involved. An’ I’ve already lost friends, even family because of this. I don’t wanna lose you too.”

"If what you're saying is right, then it's only a matter of time before I... _die_ ," Sam swallowed loudly, "I want to trust you, I'm trying. Just put yourself in my shoes for two minutes, Dean. I don't understand **anything** that's going on. Hell, I never even really know what to say to you, anything I do just seems to push you further away."

“I...” Dean looked down, “M’sorry. I don’t know how people **do** this. I don’t know how to even begin.” His stomach twisted in a knot as his head dropped completely, “F’I can get a hold of my dad, I might be able to get you out of this. An’ then you can... You can go on with your life. An’ you don’t have to even think about me. I know it’s complicated, I know it’s confusin’ an’ scary, an’ maybe sounds a little insane. But, I live it... Every day.”

He stood, he had to make distance from this man, or he was going to make the serious mistake of wanting more. He couldn’t, he didn’t deserve that, not after putting Sam into this situation, “Stay here, don’t go until I have this figured out. I’ll leave you alone, you can... Do whatever you want, sleep, browse the internet or whatever. But I don’t think I can lookit you anymore.”

"See what I mean? You're just walking away from me again," Sam shook his head, "I never said that I wanted to stop thinking about you, it's a little redundant, considering you're the only thing I think about anymore."

Sam stood, his shoulders completely slack with a tinge of hurt in his eyes, "Man, you must **really** regret meeting me."

“Yeah, you know what... I **do** ,” Dean said, feeling the frustration twist inside of him, “I can’t think straight because of you. I’ve been a wreck for **weeks** , an’ it’s your goddamn fault. Wantin’-not even to fuck you, just to sit there an’... An’ _lookit_ you for hours on end, or talk to you, or get to **know** you. I can’t help wantin’ to have you. All I’ve done so far is been fucked by you an’ I-there’s somethin’ there. I hate it."

"I hate it, because I want you. An’ I don’t want all these stupid problems in my life to force me back, to stay away from someone I _want_. I lookit you an’ it’s like someone’s punched me. It’s like I’m pressin’ bruises, just bein’ around you, because I want you so bad. So yeah, I regret meetin’ you. Because fightin’ this is tearin’ me to pieces.”

Sam closed the distance between them, "It doesn't **have** to be this way," He grabbed Dean's hand, "Just let me in." Sam just wanted to shake the life out of Dean, force him to stop being so stubborn, "I want you too." _But like you said, what I want doesn't matter._

Dean blinked, lashes wet with unshed tears as he stared up at Sam, “How can I? M’just gonna lose you like I’ve lost everyone else.” He reached up, touching Sam’s cheek, “F’I feel this way, an’ I barely know you, f’I let you in, it’s just gonna get stronger. An’ then I’m gonna lose you.”

"Right," Sam huffed, "You're pushing me away because of what **might** happen. Goddamn it, Dean. I want to get to know you, know the baggage you carry. That shit I said in the store? I meant it, it's gonna crush you. Let me in, let me help take some of it off of you."

Dean shut the distance between them, grabbing the back of Sam’s head and yanking him down, forcing their lips into a rough, heated, broken kiss that caused his teeth to cut into the inside of his top lip. He didn’t care, hands grabbing fistfuls of Sam’s hair as his heart wrenched in response, thundering a terror of beats like violence in his ears.

Sam's hands latched onto Dean's waist firmly, his fingers pulled the other man towards him. It happened too quick and Sam still didn't know why, but this contact was what he needed. It's like a sob was caught in his throat, a fear in the back of his mind that Dean was still going to pull away from him.

What was this? One for the road? Despite how wrecked Dean looked, his lips were just like Sam remembered, so soft and warm, "Dean," Sam pushed Dean backwards and pinned him against the wall, trying to pull his lips away, "I can't keep doing this if you're just gonna push me away."

“Goddamn, I can’t keep doin’ this at **all** ,” Dean said, breathless and desperate, “I can’t promise you anythin’. I... I got nothin’ to give, Sam. M'just a man. An’ I barely even got that goin’ for me.” He pulled Sam down again, kissing the other man’s jaw, his neck, sucking blood up to the surface of the skin along his collarbone.

"I'm not askin' for promises," Sam pressed forward against Dean, his breath hitched, "Just tell me the truth **and** let me be with you." Sam could barely think straight, he could feel Dean's heart beat - rapid and heavy against his own chest. Sam could feel his cock twitch with interest when Dean started on his collarbone, this wasn't the time for it though, so he'd try his best to will the thought away.

Dean looked up at Sam, breathless and impatient, “Alright.” He agreed.

He couldn’t argue anymore, he was tired of doing it. Trying to keep Sam at arms length wasn’t working anymore, and he was **already** in danger, and who even knew if Dean **could** return the other man’s life to normal. Ignorance isn’t bliss. Sam needed to know.

"Alright," Sam repeated, he pressed his lips to Dean's again in a slow, sensual kiss and pushed his hips forward. **Finally** , maybe Dean was realizing that he didn't have to tackle whatever was happening alone.

Dean responded to the kiss, body rising against the other man as he broke it, looking into Sam’s eyes heatedly, “So are we talkin’ or fuckin’? I just wanna get that outta the way.”

"Talk, then fuck," Sam practically groaned in protest as he forced himself to pull away. As badly as he _physically_ wanted Dean, he wanted to know the truth a little more. He ran his hands through his hair and backed away completely, his eyes watching Dean curiously.

“Alright then,” Dean settled back against the wall, calming his breathing and looking at Sam before he turned to the door, “That’s salt, you were right. An’ I put it there, obviously. There’s salt on every window an’ every doorway out of this house.”

"Okay," Sam nodded then raised his brows, "Why?"

“Ghosts,” Dean said, staring seriously at the taller man.


	4. Chapter 4

“Ghosts,” Dean said, staring seriously at the taller man. “An’ other thin’s... But primarily ghosts.”

"Ghosts?" Sam repeated, looking at Dean incredulously, "Like Casper?" So, it's safe to say this isn't what Sam was expecting, but he'd take it in stride.

“No, more like... The Ring,” Dean said as he considered it, “All the thin’s that go bump in the night, werewolves, poltergeists, demons, vengeful spirits - they’re real. An’ they’re not silly happy cartoon figures that wanna be friends with you.”

Sam's eyes widened and he nodded slowly, "I don't suppose there is **any** way you can prove it?" It was better than plain out saying he didn't believe it, he owed it to Dean to trust him a little.

“You really think I wanna go out there an’ tempt a spirit?” Dean shook his head, “No, no, no. I got outta that long ago. That’s the last thin’ I wanna ever consider doin’. I just protect myself now, an’ do what I can to avoid ‘em, pass on anythin’ I can to my dad. An’ I keep to myself."

"You do realize that it sounds just **slightly** far fetched," Sam squinted then ran a hand over his face, "Nevermind, sorry. So I have a ghost after me? I don't get it."

“I don’t know what you have goin’ on,” Dean chuckled, knowing that his laugh probably sounded slightly maniacal, “That’s the thin’ about the supernatural, you... You don’t always know everythin’. You can know a lot, an’ more, but never everythin’. There’s always somethin’ else aroun’ the corner. But visions? I know of that stuff, I don’t know much, but I’ve heard a few thin’s. My dad can help a lot more’n I can, but he’s not pickin’ up. He still hunts... So... M’kinda worried ‘bout ‘im.”

"Your dad hunts these things?" Sam's voice raised a little at the end, "Where is he? Did you want to go check on him?" Sam could empathize, he'd be worried sick if his mom didn't answer his calls. She was all the family Sam had, so it was to be expected.

“He drives aroun’, he could be stationed anywhere now. Last thin’ I know he was workin’ on a case in Jericho, a buncha missin’ persons,” Dean’s brows narrowed, “I haven’t heard from him in... Nearly three weeks.”

"The only way you know of gettin' a hold of him is the phone?" Sam sat down on the arm of the couch.

Dean shrugged, “Or goin’ out there myself. But I don’t wanna do that. I don’t wanna get involved in that again. An’ I know f’I go out there, he’s gonna try talkin’ me back into it.”

"Just tell him 'no'," Sam shrugged in turn, "Do you wanna make sure he's okay or not?"

“It’s just one missed phone call so far,” Dean tried to reason with himself, “F’he doesn’t call back in at least eight hours, then I might really, really worry. But, for all I know, he coulda... Could be asleep or somethin’.”

"Okay," Sam stood back up, "Eight hours and, if he doesn't call back, we'll go check on him."

Dean nodded and moved to Sam hesitantly, “You don’t believe a word I’ve said, do you?” He hated to say it, but he was having a hard time trusting Sam with this now, considering how he’d reacted before. Dean didn’t know what level they were on with this.

Sam sighed audibly, "Would you believe me if this whole situation was reversed?" Sam didn't want to lie to Dean, he just needed evidence.

“Yes,” Dean said at once, “I mean, I haven’t known you for long enough, but I think I know you **enough** to not just assume you’re lyin’ because you have nothin’ to show for it.”

"I'll take your word for it, but that doesn't mean I'm not entitled to think it sounds fuckin' nuts," Sam reached out and grabbed Dean by his belt loops.

“Dude, half the time I **wish** I was fuckin’ nuts, with the thin’s I’ve seen,” Dean stared up into Sam’s eyes, moving closer, “I’d give anythin’ - take padded white walls over it any day.”

"So you're not mad at me then?" Sam kissed the corner of Dean's mouth, "For thinkin' it sounds absurd."

Dean felt his heart nearly skip a beat, at least stumbling over it and he smirked, unable to stop himself, “Long as you trust me, I can handle you thinkin’ I’m a fuckin’ loon.”

Sam pulled him a little closer so that they were hip to hip then placed a gentle kiss just beneath Dean's right ear, "Wonder what we could do for eight hours."

“I can think of a few things,” Dean said, voice suddenly becoming heated as he turned his nose against Sam’s sideburns and smirked, “We have a problem though, none of my thoughts have us clothed in any way, an we’re both wearin’ so much.”

"You wouldn't wanna help me out with that, would you?" Sam nipped at the skin and rolled his hips against Dean's.

Dean breathed, voice heavy in the other man’s ear as he reached down to the hem of Sam’s shirt, “Hmm, I’ll think about it,” He bit along Sam’s ear before lifting the soft cotton from the larger man’s torso.

Sam let his shirt fall to the floor before he had his mouth back on Dean's neck, his tongue occasionally pressing flatly against the skin just so he could taste him. His fingers worked on the other man's jeans frantically, it'd been a while since he seen the other man in this light and he needed it.

Dean pulled his own shirt off, reaching out to unbuckle Sam’s jeans before he was shifting his hips to shuck out of his own. He kissed along the larger man’s shoulder, the back of his neck, body shaking as his hands ran down Sam’s chest, feeling the solid muscles and groaning in appreciation.

Sam pulled both his jeans and boxers down before stepping out of them, he moaned from the sensation of having the other man's hands on him again, "Do you even know what you do to me?"

It was almost as if Sam's body was trying to answer his own question when it twitched against Dean's hip. Dean was the first guy he had ever been with and despite the fact that it was still practically new territory, he felt unbelievably comfortable with him.

“Probably not, but I hope it’s good,” Dean chuckled, taking off his boxer-briefs and panting at the feeling of their skin touching one another.

He dropped down, trailing kisses along Sam’s chest and stomach, down to the gorgeous bones of his hips, mouthing the veins above the other man’s cock as the aforementioned member pressed against his throat. He felt the stick of pre-cum on his skin, ignoring it as his hands ran up Sam’s thick, toned thighs, squeezing the expanse of them in adoration.

Sam grinned at the display before him, those beautiful green eyes looking up at him as he ran his finger's through the other man's hair and tugged softly, "You're something else."

He was stuck on the whole 'he's too pretty to be a guy' thought again, he felt his stomach tighten in anticipation as he ran his thumb across Dean's bottom lip.

Dean opened his mouth, tongue stretching out to taste Sam’s thumb before he took the larger man’s girth within his palms, mouth wrapping around the plush head as he tasted Sam for the first time.

Though he was relatively use to giving head, Dean didn’t actually expect to be so _pleased_ with the taste of the other man. He didn’t know what he expected, but he was pleasantly surprised. The stick of pre-cum had him taking the length within his mouth as much as he could, relaxing his throat and consuming the full cock in one swift move.

Sam couldn't pry his eyes off of Dean, it had been entirely too long since anyone had given him head. The last girlfriend he had absolutely refused to, her reasons being that he was too big, and it was 'gross'. It was never really an issue though, it wasn't something he ever sought out. Dean's mouth was so warm and Sam almost lost it whenever he took Sam's entire length in, which that in itself deserved a medal.

He wrapped his fingers back in Dean's hair, not to push or pull, but just for the contact, " _Damn_."

Dean’s hands smoothed up the sides of Sam’s thighs and he pulled back, wetting his fingers with a slick glob of spit and pre-cum. He raised his brows as he returned his mouth to the weeping cock, one hand massaging Sam’s balls as the other reached underneath, fingers brushing the virgin muscles of the other man’s entrance.

He worked the three together carefully, lips wrapped around Sam’s cock as he hummed and lolled his tongue about, the other hands each doing their own, gentle strokes over Sam’s balls, one finger pressing into him both careful and eager.

Sam closed his eyes and tightened his grip on Dean's hair out of reflex. Even though he didn't exactly protest the intrusion, the slow dull burn was something he'd have to get used to. It wasn't completely unpleasant, just... _different_. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from moaning aloud and before too long he realized he was holding his breath, "Dean," He let it out, his voice was low and shaky.

Dean’s tongue ran over the head of Sam’s cock before he took the entire length in again, twisting his finger inside of the man’s heat and brushing slow and careful over the surface of Sam’s prostate as he did so, the teasing finger giving off the sense of ‘come hither’. His eyes flicked open as well, staring up at Sam through his lashes.

Sam's mouth flew open when he felt his muscles involuntarily clench around Dean's finger, "Fuck!" His hips bucked slightly when he looked down and saw Dean staring up at him, it was almost overwhelming and Sam had never felt anything quite like it. His legs felt like jello and if they didn't make some sort of progress towards a horizontal surface, he was bound to collapse.

Sam's left hand curled gently under Dean's chin, partially on his throat as he looked at Dean almost mesmerized.

Dean chuckled around the length, pulling back and brushing the bundle of nerves again as he licked his lips, “Ima guess... You like that.”

Sam's head lolled back before he snapped his attention back to Dean and nodded like he was in a daze, "I've never felt nothin' like it," Sam admitted and tried focusing more on the spit shiny lips of the man who apparently was capable of making Sam practically fall apart.

“Course you haven’t,” Dean said, grinning wider and kissing Sam’s stomach as he repeated the motion a few more times, “There are reasons,” He whispered, mouthing Sam’s waist with each word, “Why guys like bein’ fucked in the ass so much.”

Sam's legs trembled and he chuckled at his feeble attempt to keep himself upright, the finger mixed with Dean's voice was a lethal combination. The burning had completely disappeared and had been replaced with the same sensation he usually felt when he jacked off, that warm heat settled low in his hips as he felt his balls tighten.

Dean took Sam’s cock back into his mouth, deep-throating as he pulled his fingers out of the larger man and thrust them back in, slick and careful, rubbing his prostate as he swirled his tongue over the head of Sam’s length.

Sam panted and tried to focus enough to warn Dean how close he was, "Dean, I'm gonna..." Sam made a pathetic attempt of trying to pull his hips away, only to end up thrusting forward again into Dean's mouth, "Ah, fuck. M'gonna come."

He was hanging on to his last thread of willpower, he fought back the orgasm. Any girls that he'd been with that gave him head never made it this far, he was usually too bored with it to even care about coming. Sam wasn't up to date on blowjob etiquette, but he was pretty sure that you should warn someone before you come down their throat.

Dean worried Sam’s prostate insistently, his other hand grabbing Sam’s hips to pull him in, squeezing the skin in reassurance as he hummed and stared up at the larger man. It was cute, the concern Sam was treating him with, like he was some goddamn girl or something, and had never given head before.

Sam could feel his muscles tighten before the orgasm hit, he closed his eyes as it took him over like a white hot blanket of euphoria. His hand slid from Dean's hair down to his shoulder as his cock pulsated, spilling every bit he had to offer in Dean's mouth, "Jesus fuck."

He licked his lips and willed himself to open his eyes to look at the aftermath. It was a first; actually coming in someone's mouth and he was glad it was with Dean, he wouldn't tell him that though.

Dean tasted the sweet slick of come as it hit the back of his throat, swallowing the mouthful as he continued milking Sam’s length, leaving himself with a thin film of the seed over his tongue. He pulled back, licking his lips and kissing the softening member, sucking along it’s sides and pressing his mouth to Sam’s stomach.

“Good?” He asked, tonguing the taller man’s veins above his cock.

"Mhm," Sam mumbled and grinned weakly at Dean, his body felt completely relaxed. Sam brought his hand to Dean's chin and he bent over to take a sloppy kiss.

Dean kissed back in return, groaning into his mouth in appreciation, standing slowly and grabbing the back of the taller man’s neck as he pressed his slick tongue against Sam’s, dragging the sweet, lingering taste over it.

Sam could taste himself, he tilted his head and sucked on the tip of the other man's tongue as he pulled Dean's hips to his almost forcefully. Sam could almost understand what Dean meant about Sam poisoning his brain, except it was the other way around. The older man was slowly but surely inhabiting almost all of Sam's thoughts.

“Goddamn, I just fuckin’ **want** you,” Dean breathed against Sam’s lips, hands tangling into the taller man’s hair as he bucked his hips, cock rubbing along Sam’s thighs.

Sam almost laughed when he remembered what Dean had said to him the first time they slept together, "You think you're man enough?" Sam's voice was heavy with humor, but his already growing cock told him he wanted it just as badly. He slid one of his hands from Dean's hips to the soft swell of his ass and squeezed.

“I just gave you the best fuckin’ blow job in your life,” Dean responded, smirking as he licked his lips, “M’pretty sure I’m man enough.” His hands settled on Sam’s waist as he moved backwards, walking Sam over the carpet to his room as his lips pressed along the taller man’s chest.

Sam walked backwards until the back of his legs nipped at the bed, "How do you know it was the best one I've had?" Sam smirked and pressed a kiss to Dean's jaw.  
Dean chuckled, “I’m a guy,” He offered, smirking and shoving Sam back, climbing on top of him, somewhat reminiscent of their first time, “So, are you gonna fuck me, or m’I gonna fuck you?”

Sam leaned up and kissed Dean before he fell back to the bed again, one arm under his head and his free hand feeling Dean's thigh, "What do you want?"

“Well,” Dean ran his hands over Sam’s chest, “We got somethin’ like seven hours, f’you wanna try bottom. But I don’t mind havin’ your cock up my ass again.”

Sam felt his face heat up at the comment, he'd never met someone else with such a dirty mouth - and he liked it, "Considering how overwhelming just **one** of your pretty fingers was," Sam licked his lips and looked at Dean's cock pointedly, "I'd probably embarrass myself if I tried bottom."

What Sam had failed to mention to Dean, was that he was the type of person to research things, and after the last time they got together, Sam made sure he'd know what to do if anything similar ever happened again. Sam bucked up and rolled Dean at the same time, throwing the other man against the bed, leaving Sam hovering over him.

Dean stared up at him, body writhing underneath the larger man and his back arched, his cock brushed Sam's stomach as he closed his eyes, moaning needily. “All in time,” He said, opening them once more and staring up, fingers combing through the back of Sam’s hair as he smiled, “So, you gonna fuck me already, or do I have to beg?”

"Don't be so impatient," Sam murmured as he pressed his lips to Dean's shoulder, he began trailing kisses down his chest. He lingered as he mouthed over one of his nipples, worrying it until it was stiff, then smeared more kisses along his abdomen.

Sam looked up at Dean from his hips, his eyes set firmly on Dean's as he scraped his teeth over the left side of his waist, "Got some things I wanna try."

“Mmm,” Dean’s brows rose and he looked down curiously, “That sounds promisin’.” He sat up on his elbows, staring at Sam and licking his lips in anticipation.

Sam grinned up at Dean, he slowly wrapped his fingers around the base of his cock and mouthed at the side of it from base to tip before wrapping his lips completely around the swollen, pink head.

He bobbed his head a few times, ignoring his gag reflex as he took Dean as deep as he could in order to get his dick wet. Sam pulled back and grabbed Dean by the tops of his thighs and pulled him down a little further as he pushed Dean's legs more towards his chest.

His right hand started working the tip of the other man's cock gently as his left sprawled out on Dean's abdomen, Sam couldn't help but smile as he pressed kisses to the inside of Dean's legs.

Dean reached out, fingers combing through Sam’s hair as he fought to keep his hips still in respect. He was patient, he knew this was Sam’s first time. And he would do absolutely **nothing** to make him feel uncomfortable.

“Damn,” He breathed, moving his hands to the other man’s forearm and squeezing in reassurance.

Sam could see the look in Dean's eyes, which was endearing to say the least, but Sam knew he'd do just fine. He was too much of a research buff and perfectionist to just do a mediocre job at this, he was going to make it good. Sam squeezed his fist a little more around the tip of Dean's cock and used a twisting motion, much like how Sam used to jerk himself off.

The slow wet kisses gradually turned into love bites the closer he got to Dean's cock. Sam's tongue darted out and traced a line from Dean's perineum, up to the silky wrinkled flesh of his balls, before he brought one into his mouth and rolled his tongue against it before releasing it with a slick pop.

“Fuck,” Dean sat up more, dull nails biting into Sam’s forearm as his eyes widened. Looked like the college boy had hit the books some time in the past three weeks. His face flushed, feeling the heat in, not only his face, but his neck and shoulders as well.

It was almost too much, too unbearable, to be so patient when all he wanted was Sam’s cock up his ass. But it was completely fucking gorgeous, watching this man learn him, learn head for the first time, learn another guy's body.

Sam licked the tip of Dean's cock before he grabbed the other man's hand and placed it where his own was, "Jack yourself off for me, nice and slow but don't get off." Sam's voice was low and demanding, something he wasn't used to hearing himself sound like.

He positioned himself a little lower before kissing the sensitive skin along the crease of Dean's ass, he began tracing slow persistent circles around the warm puckered flesh with his tongue, before he stiffened the muscle in his mouth and pushed at the entrance.

Dean’s eyes widened even more as he took up his own length, palming it at an unattractively fast pace, just enough to keep it busy. Goddamn, if it wasn’t the fucking **hottest** thing, feeling Sam tonguing him. Dean nearly felt like he’d lose it just at that thought, but he kept it back, the rhythmic pumps of his cock keeping him firm as he watched the man disappearing between his legs.

Sam hummed as he continued to fuck his tongue into Dean, the sweet musky taste taking over his senses as he felt himself throb at the thought of being back inside of him. He changed it up a little from strictly delving into him, back to the circles around the entrance, followed by lightly sucking.

He leaned up a little and brought two fingers up to Dean's mouth and pressed against the other man's lips to gain entrance.

Dean’s mouth parted at once, sucking Sam’s fingers at first before soaking them with spit the best he could. He was so fucking hard at this point, with Sam’s persistence and domination. His hips rolled, incidentally pushing his heat against the flat of the other man’s tongue.

“Goddamn,” He said, head dropping back and he practically sobbed with need.

Sam moaned against Dean's heat when he took Sam's fingers into his mouth, reminding him of just how good exactly his mouth felt. He pressed the tip of his middle finger at the entrance and rubbed a soothing circular motion before dipping his finger past the resisting muscle slowly. Sam remembered what the article he read said, so he arched his finger slightly and rubbed the tip against the firm lump inside of Dean.

He was pretty sure this was the exact same thing Dean did to him earlier that almost had Sam sobbing with pleasure. The younger man was knuckle-deep before he added another finger, his mouth sucking lazily at Dean's balls again.

“Sam, dammit,” Dean gasped, arching his back and thumbing the tip of his cock as he moaned. He felt the tremor in his legs and dropped his hand, squeezing the base of his length, to calm himself down. He let out a shaky breath and smirked, “Goddamn, too close. What the fuck is wrong with me?”

Sam shrugged but didn't say anything, he just pulled his fingers out and grinned at Dean again. There was no way he was letting Dean come without being inside of him first, he positioned himself over top of Dean again and flicked one of his nipples with his tongue, "Condom?"

“Top drawer,” Dean said, sitting up and taking Sam by the back of the neck, pulling him into an eager, sloppy kiss as his thighs tightened around the larger man’s waist.

Sam's clean hand cupped Dean's cheek as he moaned in approval before breaking away to lean over him, he grabbed a condom and the small bottle of lube laying next to it. He bit one end of the package as he ripped it open and slid it smoothly over his throbbing cock, he flipped the cap to the lube open and dispensed a small amount on his fingers then rubbed it along his length, "You want it?"

The younger man positioned himself between Dean's thighs, he just wanted to hear Dean's voice again before he pushed in.

“Fuck, yes,” Dean said, his thumb and fore finger idly playing with his left nipple as he watched Sam with a heated gaze, “I want you so bad. Sam, please,” He dropped his head back on the bed, free hand running through the scruff of the long stubble along his jaw where Sam had grabbed him. If he didn’t shave soon, it was going to be a bitch to get through.

Sam closed his eyes and pushed in until his balls were pressed up next to Dean's ass, he almost choked on a ragged breath before he began to draw out again. He leaned down and worried the nipple Dean was playing with between his teeth, moaning as he started a steady rhythm, "You're so fuckin' tight."

At this point, if it had been anyone **else** Dean was with, he would’ve responded with ‘I hear that a lot’, but he kept it back. It was weird, to think that he was in a steady (sort of) relationship. It was, at least, more serious than anything else he’d even been involved in - and the man fit him so perfectly, like a goddamn dream. But Dean didn’t know how to respond, his best come back to that was unavailable.

“Sam,” He breathed, “Please.”

Sam panted heavily against Dean's skin as he picked the pace up, needily pawing at Dean's cock as he slammed into the smaller man, "I'll get you there." He couldn't forget their first time together if he tried, but something about being with Dean now was different; _better_.

Dean gasped, little pleased sounds emitting from between his lips as he raised his legs, his ass arching higher off the bed and his eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head as Sam slammed into him.

“Fuck,” He hissed, reaching down between them, fingers brushing the cock as it thrust inside, filling him perfectly.

Sam leaned back more on his knees and held Dean by his thighs, thrusting relentlessly into him, "Such a dirty mouth," Sam smiled and lolled his head back, unable to focus because Dean was like a vice around him. The noises coming out of Dean's mouth would be Sam's undoing and he knew it, he could already feel it building and pooling in his hips.

“Mmm,” Dean arched again, body bowing upwards, hips pushing back slightly on Sam’s cock as he whined, “Harder, goddammit.” Surely those muscles were good for something.

"Fuck!" Sam thrust harder and faster as he leaned down and grabbed Dean by the chin, he jerked his face to the side and bit down on his neck and practically growled. Sam was starting to think Dean was a glutton for punishment, but how could Sam deny him a punishment that felt as good as _this_?

“Sam!” Dean shouted suddenly, the man's name spilling out in a sudden tandem, over and over and over until his lips were dry. He came finally, feeling the hot stick of come splatter onto his stomach. The force of Sam shoving into him, rocking Dean’s bed against the carpet, and he grabbed the other man’s hair tight in his fist, mouth pressed to Sam’s ear as he grunted and gasped his release into it, breath short and desperate as he licked his lips wet again.

Dean's tightening muscles was too much for Sam to handle; he came with his face buried in Dean's neck, his come mixing with Dean's between them. Sam thrust a few more times before he stilled his hips, his breathing heavy and labored.

“Goddamn,” Dean kissed the sweat of Sam’s shoulder, arms wrapping tightly around the other man as he breathed short, ragged pants to calm his racing heart.

"I could get used to that," Sam mumbled into Dean's skin before he started kissing his neck. Having Dean wrap his arms around Sam was like icing on the cake, Sam sighed contently as he kissed Dean chastely.

The older man responded at once, moaning his agreement into Sam’s mouth as he dropped his shaking thighs. Goddamn, he’d never had had something _this_ intense. He’d also never fucked someone twice. But it was... _Overwhelmingly satisfying_. It wasn’t just that though, he was sure, because even the first time with Sam had just been amazing. And being around the man, without even touching him, felt like... **More**.

Sam ran his hand over the soft skin on Dean's thigh, "So what now, gorgeous? How much time did that pass?" Sam kissed idly at Dean's face, over the bridge of his nose and up next to his eyes.

“‘Bout an hour,” Dean said as he glanced at the alarm clock on the night stand. His heart had nearly flipped at the word ‘gorgeous’, and he tried to ignore it, eyes slightly wide and cheeks flushing as the other man began kissing him, “Jesus, man, I can’t take that.” His voice was breathless as he smiled weakly, fingers caressing Sam's back, feather light in long strokes.

"Can't take what?" Sam mumbled against his cheek before he feathered more kisses against Dean's skin, his right palm smoothing over Dean's hip.

“ _That_ ,” Dean chuckled, feeling his insides tighten at the adoration, “I dunno, never had somethin’ like this, I... It’s a **lot**.”

"Sorry," Sam stopped kissing him and sighed as he laid flush against him, "Just tryin' to get it out of my system." Sam had wanted to kiss Dean all over his face and get his lips on those freckles since he first laid eyes on him in the bar.

Dean shook his head, “Don’t apologize, it’s nice,” he said, pressing his lips to Sam’s jaw, “I like it. I just... I dunno, never really been _adored_... I... Like it.” It sounded stupid to say, to repeat, but he meant every word. It was nice, to have someone that thought of him like that. The whole thing reminded him of his mother, a lot.

Sam ran his fingers through the short bristles of Dean's hair and smiled warmly, "I'm willing to bet that you deserve it." Sam was pretty good at reading people and he could tell after their one night stand that Dean was pretty broken, he needed something good in his life and Sam wanted to be that for him.

“I don’t know, I guess,” Dean shrugged, he didn’t often think of it, or really at all, but he supposed it made sense. He really hadn’t had **anyone** since he was five, John wasn’t nearly as attentive as his mother, or attentive at all. Dean had just accepted it. After a while, he just stopped caring when his father didn’t return his affections, which was why Dean inevitably left. But this was really nice, having this with Sam, it felt _right_.

Sam pressed his lips to Dean's for a slow short kiss before he rolled to the older man's side and stretched, "You think he's gonna call?" Sam tried changing the subject.

Dean shook his head, “No,” His stomach sunk, “Dad doesn’t miss a call, even **if** he’s asleep. He just... He **doesn’t** miss a call. An’ I’ve been so under the past three weeks, I wasn’t even payin’ attention.”

Sam propped himself up on his elbow and raised his brows at Dean, "Then why in the Hell did you decide to wait eight hours to see if he'd call back?" Sam sat up and patted Dean on the leg, "Let's get dressed, we should go."

“Well, I don’t really like worryin’, I was hopin' he'd just... Call, eventually,” Dean sat up and took Sam’s wrist, “Don’t you have like... School or somethin’? I don’t know.”

"I'm not gonna flunk If I miss a few classes, I'll just have a few exams to make up," Sam stood and smiled at Dean reassuringly, "I should probably call my Mom first though, in case she calls my phone and I'm out of service or something."

Dean nodded, “Alright, I’m uh... I’m gonna go shower first,” He said, looking pointedly at his stomach.

Sam grinned, "I'll join you, just gotta make a call first." Sam knew his mom would never forgive him if he just left town without telling her.

“Okay,” Dean sat up, wincing at the soft burn between his legs, goddamn, that man had fucked him hard. He bit his bottom lip, smirking, it felt fucking amazing though. Completely worth every ounce of pain.

Sam walked into the living room where his pants were and dug in his pocket to get his phone, his mom had picked up after the second ring. Sam had told her that he met someone, he didn't get too specific, just told her that she'd like the person. She asked about his exams and how school was going and he sated her by telling her that everything was golden.

When Sam told her that he was leaving town for a little while she was worried, but gave up when Sam convinced her that he'd be fine. Sam could hear the water pipes squeaking in the bathroom, he smiled and told his mom he had to go.

Dean pulled a second towel down from the hallway closet, setting it on the hanger by his and stepping underneath the comfortable heat of the shower-head, nearly groaning in satisfaction as it washed the stick from his stomach.

Sam walked into the bathroom and slid into the shower quietly, he pressed himself up against Dean's back and laid a kiss on his shoulder.

“Hmm,” Dean said in slight surprise, reaching his arms up and back to tangle in Sam’s hair as he arched, pressing his ass and his shoulder blades against the man behind him. This was definitely a first; a good first.

“Only downside is now you’re gonna smell like me,” He chuckled.

"I don't see how that's such a bad thing," Sam smiled against Dean's ear and rested his hands on his soft wet hips.

“I like the way you smell,” Dean said, rolling his hips back against Sam’s cock as his hands covered the man’s own.

"Really now?" Sam chuckled and kissed his neck, feeling himself get hard again already. Sam pulled away and shook his head, "You're gonna kill me."

Dean repeated the motion, lifting his ass and taking the larger man’s cock between his thighs, reaching down and thumbing the head of Sam’s length as he turned to kiss him, “Not intentionally.”

Sam grabbed Dean's ass as his lips fell slack against the other man's mouth, "It'd be a pretty good way to go."

* * *

Dean pulled the strings tight on his boots, tying them up before standing and shoving on his jacket, he grabbed the keys from the tv stand, took up the large bag of salt from the hallway closet and moved to the door. “You ready?” He asked, looking at Sam.

The younger man pushed off the couch, fully dressed and ran his fingers through his damp hair, "You've been afraid to let me leave, something's not gonna attack me as soon as I step outside, right?"

“No, I’m here,” Dean said, taking Sam’s forearm and staring at him, “Nothing’s going to hurt you, long as I’m around.”

"How sweet," Sam teased in a girly falsetto before smacking him on the ass.

Dean raised his brows and rolled his eyes, “Yeah, good, long as you don’t go runnin’ off like an idiot,” He said, moving to the door, his free hand on the gun tucked in the back of his pants as he made his way to the Impala parked out front.

Sam snickered and followed closely behind, admiring not only Dean's ass, but his broad shoulders and legs too. It didn't make sense to Sam, how someone like Dean could walk the earth without having someone to share it with, how someone as beautiful and strong as him could be such a lonely soul. He smiled warmly at Dean as he stood at the passenger side door of the Impala, all teasing aside, Sam was glad Dean opened up to him a little.

“Lemme just put this in the back,” The older man said, unlocking and opening the trunk, looking around through his arsenal, tucking a few things in his jacket pocket and making sure everything he needed was there.

Sam nodded and laid his arms on the hood of the car, waiting patiently.

Dean closed up the back, walking around and letting Sam in first, taking a quick glance of the street before climbing into the driver’s side and starting the Impala up. “Hope you’re lookin’ forward to a road trip,” He said, leaning over and pressing his lips to Sam’s.

The younger man hummed against Dean's lips and then chuckled, "Leaving town with a guy I've known for **about** a month," Sam shrugged, "Sounds like a dream."

“Yeah well,” Dean shrugged as he pulled out of the parking lot and drove up onto the main road, “Havin’ these feelin’s for a men I’ve known just as short, an’ lettin’ him in, has about the same effect on me.”

Sam smiled and tried to get comfortable in his seat, which took hardly any effort at all; felt like it was made just for him, like he'd sat there all of his life, "So how far out of town are we goin'?"

“It’s about... A three hour drive of what would normally be thirty minutes or so, considerin’ the time of day, an’-you know-California,” He chuckled, turning the radio on low.

"If this doesn't test how well we can tolerate each other," Sam grinned and laid his hand on Dean's leg, "Then I don't know what will."

“Well, I’d just reference the last three weeks,” Dean said, covering Sam’s hand with his own, “Both of us are too stubborn for our own good, I swear. I think we should be safe now.&rdqu


	5. Chapter 5

Seven miles outside of Jerico, Dean pulled over on the side of the road at the first sight of cop cars, putting the Impala into park and reaching across to the glove compartment, opening it and fishing out a little wooden cigar box.

Sam looked at Dean and raised his brows out of confusion, then looked at the cop cars, "What's goin' on?"

“Don’t know,” Dean said, lips ducked as he sifted through and pulled something out, putting the box between them and looking at Sam with a side smirk, “Time to find out.”

"What do you mean 'time to find out'?" Sam shook his head, still obviously not with the program, "We're lookin' for your dad, remember?"

“Yes,” Dean said over the roof of the car, “But, if he’s workin’ on a case here, then those cops over there might be involved in it. So, just... You know, play along. Alright?”

Sam widened his eyes a little an nodded in agreeance, "Uh, okay."

Dean walked up to the cops, listening to the conversation being shared between them.

“No sign of struggle, no foot prints, no finger prints – spotless – it’s almost too clean,” The first man said, crouched by the driver’s side door.

“So this kid Troy,” The second one started, peering in at the first, “He’s datin’ your daughter, isn’t he?”

“Yeah.”

“How’s Amy doin’?”

The first guy answered at once, “She’s puttin’ up missing posters downtown.”

“You fellas had another one like this just last month, didn’t you?” Dean asked, cutting in.

“And who’re you?” The first cop raised a brow, looking at him.

“Federal marshals,” Dean said, flashing a badge, the object he’d collected from the box.

The cop sized Dean and Sam up, “You two are a little young for marshals, aren’t you?”

Dean chuckled, “Thanks, that’s awfully kind of you. You did have another one just like this, correct?”

“Yeah, that’s right, about a mile up the road. There’ve been others before that.”

Sam stood next to Dean and shoved his hands in his pockets as he listened nervously to the conversation. So apparently, this is what Dean used to do? Sam just nodded and listened intently, pretending like he knew what was going on. He surprised himself when he cut in, "Anybody know the victim?"

The first cop nodded, looking at Sam, “I did. Town like this, everybody knows everybody.”

“Any connection between the victims,” Dean asked from the other side of the car, “Besides that they’re all men?”

“No. Not so far as we can tell.”

Sam shifted and gave Dean a look that said ' _get me the Hell out of here, I can't fake it much better than this_ '.

Dean nodded to the officer, “Well, I think that’s all we can do here. Thank you for your time, officers” He said, motioning to Sam and walking from the busted up car.

Sam nudged Dean in the ribs once they were out of earshot from the officers, "Next time warn me about what I'm in for, that's not somethin' you can just play along with."

Dean chuckled, looking at Sam as they passed a group of well-suited men walking up to the scene, “You’re gonna have to get use to it, Sam. Finding my dad isn’t gonna be easy.’

"I can get used to it, training wheels would have been nice is all," Sam mock complained, how was there a way someone could prepare you for impersonating a federal marshal?

Dean climbed back into the driver’s side of the Impala, “Bah, you’ll learn on the fly, that’s how I did. Now, our best bet is to talk to the girlfriend, the one puttin’ up posters. She might give us somethin’ more to work on.”

"Okay," Sam settled back into the passenger seat, "And you think your dad might be workin' this case too or what?"

“Not ‘too’,” Dean smirked, “I mean, far as I can tell, it’s the same case. Missing men within the same one mile stretch of road? Oh yeah.”

"You're sure about this?" Sam questioned, then realized that Dean was the one who had been doing this practically all his life, he put his hands up in defeat, "You know what? Never mind, I'm sure you know what you're doin'. You think your dad has already questioned the girlfriend?"

“Maybe, it’s possible,” Dean shrugged as he pulled back onto the main road, “But if we wanna catch up, we gotta dig too.”

Sitting next to Dean in the Impala just then was the first time Sam felt completely ignorant for the first time since he started school at Stanford. Sam got comfortable in the seat and stared idly out the window.

* * *

After posing as Troy’s uncles and getting information out of her, learning about a rumor of a woman picking up men out on the road, Dean and Sam took to the library to learn more about the history behind the story. They found out the woman’s name was Constance Welch and that she’d jumped from the very bridge they’d been standing on, once her children had drowned in the upstairs bathtub.

Dean stepped out to the side of the bridge, looking over and down to the troubled waters below, “So this is where Constance took the swan dive,” He observed.

"You think it was an accident or do you think she killed 'em?" Sam looked over the edge of the bridge curiously.

Dean nodded slowly, considering it and ducking out his lips as he mulled it over, “It’s possible. I’m definitely not ruling it out.”

Sam threaded his forefinger through Dean's belt loop and pulled him back from the edge just to sate his mind, "What about the old house, would it be worth checkin' out?"

“Definitely,” Dean agreed at once, turning to Sam and smirking, “What? Scared of heights?” He suggested, waggling his brows.

Sam dropped his hand from Dean's pants and rolled his eyes a little, smiling, "Just didn't want you fallin' over. Shut up."

Dean looked passed the taller man, eyes widening as his gaze settled on a woman dressed in white, standing perched on the rail of the bridge across from them, “Sam,” He said, motioning to her.

Sam turned and all the color left his face when his eyes locked on to the ghostly-looking woman who looked like she was about to jump, "Uh, Dean." Sam was pretty sure his whole body locked up in fear, he couldn't even force himself to reach out to Dean.

The woman stared at them for a moment before dropping off and Dean rushed forward, running to the other side and staring out over into emptiness, “Where’d she go?” He asked, searching around the water below them.

"I d-don't know," Sam stammered nervously as he glanced around, shaking his head, "Just get back from the ledge."

Dean paused at the sound of the Impala-still parked at the foot of the bridge-starting up, her familiar growl filling his ears as the headlights came on and he turned, staring with wide eyes at the car, “What the fuck?” He asked in confusion.

Sam willed himself to walk towards Dean, constantly keeping an eye on the Impala as he fisted the back of the other man's jacket, "Dean, what's goin' on?"

“I dunno,” Dean said, hand reaching out and taking Sam’s side in his grip, “But I uh... I’ve got my keys in my pocket.”

"Shit," Sam tugged at Dean's jacket when the Impala started to move towards them, "I think we should probably run."

Dean moved back slowly before the car started to speed up and he turned, taking Sam’s arm as he forced his legs into a sprint, glancing back just before he moved to the side railing and jumped to dodge the car.

Sam could feel his adrenaline pumping and it all happened so fast and, before he knew it, he was hanging on to the side of the bridge and Dean had just splashed into the water below. Sam pulled himself back up a little so that he could climb back over the side of the bridge and he looked down at the water. It wasn't far enough of a drop to kill anyone, _well_ , unless they didn't know how to swim.

"You okay?!" Sam yelled, trying to focus enough to see if Dean was moving.

Dean, pulling himself out of the murky waters, crawling back onto the bank, sprawled out on his back and made an ‘a-okay’ motion to the man still up on the bridge, “I’m super,” He breathed.

Sam looked towards the edge of the bridge and noticed the Impala was no longer moving, just sitting there with the engine running. He glanced back over the edge of the bridge and yelled, "I think she's gone, get your hot ass back up here."

 _Hot, wet, uncomfortable ass,_ Dean agreed in silence as he stood and trudged up the side of the hill to join the other man back at his car, “Still a hot ass though,” He said to himself, trying to wipe his hands and face off.

It took everything Sam had not to laugh as he leaned against the Impala and eyed Dean up and down, chuckles reverberating through his chest anyway, "Well, that was odd." Seeing both the woman jump over the edge of the bridge, and the Impala coming after them, sort of cemented Sam's trust - he'd wanted evidence, and what he just witnessed was good enough.

“That’s nothin’ compared to most of it half the time,” Dean sighed, moving back to the trunk of the Impala, “She okay? I mean, she looks fine,” He said, glancing over his car.

"She looks just fine," Sam snickered as his eyes followed Dean, "You? Not so much."

"Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want," Dean said, shifting uncomfortably as he pulled out a couple of rags to clean himself off the best he could; better than nothing.

Sam crinkled his nose and chuckled, "Dude, I can smell you all the way over here."

* * *

After checking into a motel within reach of the bridge, and finding out that their father had paid out a room their for an entire month, Dean picked the lock of the aforementioned room and walked in, looking around the darkened living space and turning back, “Uh, I think it’s safe to come in,” He said, glancing around at the familiar living style of his father.

Sam walked closely behind Dean, unable to see just about anything else in the room, "You sure this is a good idea?"

“No, not really,” Dean answered honestly, shrugging as he observed a half eaten burger sitting on the night stand, “But I gotta find him, right?"

Sam looked around the room, "It looks like he was just here." Judging from how much stuff was scattered in the room, Sam also had a feeling he'd end up coming back.

“No way, he’s been gone a couple days at **least** ,” Dean said, looking over the collection of missing persons racked along the wall, the male victims over the period of time. He glanced at the other side, raising his brows as he moved over and saw, at once, the same news article that they’d found about Constance Welch and it all came together. “A woman in white,” He said aloud.

Sam nodded contemplatively, "The woman on the bridge," He looked around the room again and raised his brows, "Where do you think he is?"

Dean shook his head, looking around at the mess, “Sure looks like he left in a hurry. Half eaten food, stuffs upturned." He shifted suddenly, clearly uncomfortable, "I’m gonna shower, though. These clothes are startin’ to feel stiff.”

"Okay," Sam sat down at the edge of the bed, trying to avoid touching the messed up sheets, "I'll be right here." _What do I say to your dad if he magically reappears while you're in the shower?_

Dean glanced around for a moment, “Hey, could you maybe... Salt the door again?”

Sam nodded, grabbed the container he'd seen sitting on the tv stand, and went straight to the door to lay down a thick line of salt, unsure of whether or not he did it properly. He sat the container back down and pulled the curtain away just a little with two fingers to glance outside.

Dean showered as quickly as he could, using the motel supplied shampoo provisions and walking back out into the room with the towel around his waist. He hadn’t brought a change of clothes, not really knowing that he'd be taking his **own** swan dive off the side of a bridge on this trip, so he joined Sam by the bed and began to fish through his father’s belongings.

Sam had been sitting at the edge of the bed when Dean came out of the bathroom, steam rolling out around his body when he opened the door. He bit his bottom lip when Dean sat down next to him on the bed, then leaned over and pressed a kiss to the other man's shoulder while he was looking through a beat up duffel-bag.

Dean turned and smirked, giving Sam a suggestive look as he pulled out one of his personal favorites of John Winchester’s shirts, a change of pants and boxers, it’d have to do until he got his own washed, or returned home, whichever came first. "Won't look as pretty in these, but they'll do."

Sam rolled his eyes and kissed higher up on Dean's shoulder before he pulled away, "You'd look pretty in a trash bag."

“Yeah, probably not,” Dean chuckled, standing up and pulling the towel away at once, no sign of hesitation or stutter as he exposed himself.

Sam blushed and he wasn't even the one _exposing_ himself. Regardless of how comfortable Sam was with Dean, he still felt his throat tighten. He licked his lips before trailing his gaze back up to Dean's face slowly, admiring every inch.

Dean stepped into the boxers, grimacing at how immediately uncomfortable they were; definitely not his thing. He pulled on the pants next and, while they were slightly loose on his waist, they wouldn’t fall off; they just didn’t fit as snug as he preferred.

“Can’t say I’ve ever worn dad’s clothes before. This is a first.”

Sam chuckled a little and then grimaced, because there was no way he would ever even have the opportunity, "At least you have a dad." He looked away, trying his hardest not to be bitter about the situation.

Dean raised a brow at the passing comment, “No? But you have your mom, right?”

"Yeah," Sam grinned slightly, remembering her warm smile nearly at once.

“Well, I don’t,” Dean supplied, pulling John’s old, worn shirt over his head and poking his hands through the arm holes as he brought it down to cover his chest and stomach.

"I'm sorry," Sam muttered, looking away, "Guess we're even."

Dean turned, pushing Sam back onto the bed and climbing over him, “Oh, come on now,” He said, nipping along the other man’s jaw, sucking the soft flesh along it, “Plenty of people only have one parent, aren’t you glad you have your mom, at least?”

"Yeah," Sam admitted and put his hands on Dean's hips, "Still wish I would've at least had a father figure or something."

“Mm, I don’t,” Dean chuckled, “I mean, nice an’ all, just not the way I would’ve expected it,” He dragged his teeth down Sam’s jaw, sucking along his collarbone.

Sam tightened his grip on Dean's hip and rolled up against him, "Well, I have nothing to go by what so ever. I don't even know my real dad's name, mom never told me." It was an odd conversation to be having considering the situation they were in, but whatever.

“I had my mom for... What? 5 years? Almost six,” Dean said, hands moving up under Sam’s shirt, “I shoulda seen it comin’ though, even then.” His fingers brushed the larger man’s nipples, lifting the shirt so he could suck on the left one and buck into Sam’s crotch.

"Should've seen what coming?" Sam asked almost disinterestedly, playing with Dean's hair.

“Their divorce,” Dean said, biting the hardening nub in his mouth, “Mile away.”

Sam wasn't sure why he cared so much, but it was Dean and that seemed reason enough, "At least you had your mom for a while. When they separated, you never seen her again after that?" It didn't make sense to Sam, how could any mother just leave their son behind and never see him again.

“Yeah, it was rough, they fought over custody of my brother an’ I,” Dean said, moving down Sam’s stomach, carefully unbuttoning his jeans, “Ma got my bro, an’ I got dad. After that, dad started huntin’ even more, buryin’ himself in it all.”

Sam propped himself up on his elbows and watched Dean, his breathing almost catching in his chest, "They split you and your brother? That's not right." Sam's eyes kept darting to the door, he put his hand on Dean's shoulder, "What if your dad walks in?"

“Cum quicker then,” Dean said, yanking the taller man’s jeans down to his ankles and pulling Sam’s cock from out of his boxers, “Relax, no one’s gonna walk in on us.”

"Hope you're right," Sam's head lolled back, "I'd hate to meet the man for the first time with my dick in your mouth."

“You’re tellin’ me,” Dean chuckled, palming Sam’s cock a few times, “I mean, he doesn’t even know I’m into **guys**.” He bent down, one hand on the other man’s inner thigh as he wrapped his lips around the head of Sam’s cock, sucking gently at the tip, teasing him.

"To be fair," Sam moaned audibly, "You don't seem the type." He fisted a handful of Dean's hair gently, "Those lips of yours though, god damn."

“Neither do you, college boy,” Dean said before taking the entire cock within his mouth, tongue lolling around it’s underneath as his hands smoothed over the soft hairs of Sam’s thighs, squeezing the muscle there as he looked up to the younger man.

Sam bit down on his bottom lip and balled the sheets up in his free hand to keep from bucking up into Dean's mouth, "What can I say?" _You were the first guy I have ever been with and I didn't even know I liked guys before you._ "You bring it out of me."

Dean let go of the cock with a sloppy, wet pop and smirked, “Yes, I do. Now, are you gonna fuck my mouth or just let me do everythin’..? I don’t mind bein’ skull fucked.”

Sam grinned and applied pressure to the back of Dean's head, pushing his mouth back down onto his cock. If Dean gave him permission to do exactly what he was trying **not** to do, then he was going to do it. The muscles in Sam's thighs flexed as he thrust into Dean's warm mouth, not far enough to gag him though.

Holding Dean in place as he bucked shallowly into his mouth had Sam moaning and writhing between thrusts, "Fuck."

Dean groaned approvingly around him, reaching up and taking Sam’s wrists in his palms, not to stop him, but to reassure. His thumbs brushed the backs of them as he opened his mouth wider, receiving the length with sucks as Sam pulled out, tongue squirming underneath as the man fucked back into him.

Sam alternated between short shallow thrusts usually followed with just a couple longer thrusts, only pulling out when Dean's eyes would water. In retrospect, giving Sam control of the situation wasn't a good idea, he knew he'd get off too quick.

Sam's hand moved from Dean's hair down to his cheek, partially on his neck as he thumbed the corner of Dean's mouth, "Jesus fuck, you've got a mouth made for this." It was ridiculous how hot it was; Dean's mouth stretched around Sam, his eyes wide with spit running down his chin.

Dean gave his best cocky smirk, pun intended, trying to ignore how completely fucking hard he was. He’d wanted Sam to do it the first time, just fuck his mouth raw until his jaw hurt, but the younger man had been so shy and embarrassed, even surprised when Dean had actually let him cum in his mouth. This though, this was fucking perfect. It was amazing to feel the man’s powerful muscles beneath, fucking up into him like a goddamn jackhammer; even his lips were numb.

Sam was close and he was having a hard time telling whether or not he was hurting Dean, but it was at the point to where it felt so good that he **almost** didn't care. Sam laid flat on his back and tangled his other hand in Dean's hair as his right caressed the man's face, he fucked into his mouth harder and faster. When Sam came, the only word that left his lips was Dean's name and incoherent whimpers of praise.

Dean tasted the sweet, tangy burst of flavor at once, filling his mouth and dripping down his chin. He pulled back, savoring the familiar taste, swallowing carefully and licking it from his lips before cleaning the larger man’s shaft, kissing and sucking along the length of it.

Sam was panting and trying to pry his eyes open, his whole body was tingling, "You're gonna be the death of me."

“An’ suck it right out of your cock?” Dean asked, raising a brow as he stood, climbing carefully into Sam’s lap and pressing their lips together.

Sam hummed against Dean's lips and gripped his face with both hands, his tongue swiping slowly over Dean's bottom lip, "Mmm."

Dean rocked his hips against Sam’s stomach, reaching down to unbutton his own pants. _John probably... Shouldn’t get these back_. He moaned against the larger man’s mouth, taking himself up eagerly in his palm; so hard that it nearly fucking **hurt**.

Sam eagerly swatted Dean's hand away and wrapped his hand around his cock instead, his breath heavy between their lips at the hardness of it, "Christ."

“Sam,” Dean’s head dropped against the larger man’s neck and he moaned, “Fuck,” He breathed, one hand reaching up to thumb his right nipple, pinching it and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger.

Sam pumped Dean's length slowly as he whispered in his ear, "Do you want me to jack you off, want me on my knees or do you want inside my ass?" Sam nipped at Dean's ear and tightened his grip on the other man's cock.

“Goddamn, boy,” Dean breathed as his hips thrust into the grip suggestively, “You’re catchin’ dirty from me. I want you any way I can have you, I mean-anythin’ is fine by me. Just, whatever you’re comfortable with.”

Sam had to laugh at that, because maybe Dean was rubbing off on him a little. Sam twisted his hand down over the head of Dean's cock, "I want you to fuck me, just don't hurt me."

“You know I won’t, I’ll be gentle,” Dean said, smoothing his hand along Sam’s thigh and climbing off of him, moving to the door to lock it as he ordered, “On your stomach, get comfortable.”

Sam mock saluted Dean before he rolled and rested his head on his arms, his cock twitching with anticipation, "Can't believe I'm doin' this," He mumbled to himself.

Dean chuckled and walked back to Sam, climbing between the man’s thighs and running his palms along the backside of Sam’s legs, “You’re body,” He said, barely breathing as he spoke, “Is so fuckin’ perfect, it’s like I wanna bury myself in every inch of it.” He kissed along Sam’s back, the cute dimples above the larger man’s ass and, goddamn if it wasn’t the most fucking **glorious** ass he’d ever had the pleasure of being introduced to.

Sam looked back at Dean and grinned, "Can't say I've ever heard that before." He was nervous, but he wanted it all the same. Dean's hands felt like they were made to touch his body and he raised his back a little to meet Dean's lips.

“Yeah, well, get use to it,” Dean said, taking Sam’s ass in his fists and spreading him wide, he nearly moaned just seeing the sweet, pink, puckered entrance; virgin, untarnished, untouched. He salivated just looking at it and leaned in, pressing a wet, eager tongue against the center of it and moaning again as his cock throbbed involuntarily.

"Fuck," Sam almost jumped, but then he melted into the warmth. All of this was new in a way and completely overwhelming, yet Sam knew he'd want it again without doubt. He pressed his forehead to the mattress, glad that Dean couldn't see the blush that was painting his cheeks.

Dean smirked at the response and pulled away, running a soothing palm over Sam’s lower back, “Calm down, you gotta relax, okay? Just rest those muscles. You’re so fuckin’ tense right now,” He said, wetting his tongue and moving back down to lap at the larger man’s heat.

"M'tryin'," Sam mumbled into his arm. He let out a heavy breath and willed himself to relax.

Dean moaned approvingly, massaging Sam’s skin under his fingers as he returned back to the larger man’s entrance, pressing his tongue against the relaxing band of muscles.

Sam let out a mixture of both a sigh and a moan, which was a lot louder than he intended, but it felt too **good**. He kept his body lax, but he fisted the sheets tightly.

It was impressive, how well Sam was doing, Dean felt a little bit of pride in that, considering this was the man’s first time. After a progressively heated moment of tongue fucking Sam, soaking the entrance until he’d memorized the taste, Dean wet his first two fingers and pulled back, kissing above the larger man’s ass as he carefully slipped the first finger inside.

Sam whimpered against his arm and lifted his hips slightly to meet Dean, one finger wasn't bad at all, he was sure he could handle two, " _More_."

Dean looked up, running his free hand over Sam’s back to sooth him, keeping the man as comforted as he could, “You sure?” He asked and then slipped his index finger in alongside the first once he saw the minute nod of the other man.

Sam tensed up a little at the addition of the second finger, but it wasn't unbearable. It was like a dull burning sensation that seemed to dissipate the longer Dean had his fingers in him, resulting in an almost pleasurable, full feeling.

“You good?” Dean asked, adding more spit to the fingers as he slowly began working them into Sam, sure, drawling pumps of his arm, easing them in over time, stretching the muscles as carefully as he could, spreading his fingers in the younger man and curling them to brush that little bundle of nerves.

"Yeah, I'm-" Sam arched his back a little when Dean hit that familiar spot, the one that had Sam a mess before, "Fuck."

“'Fuck', huh?” Dean smirked, “That’s pretty good,” He observed, taking up a rhythm as he fucked Sam on his fingers, watching the man’s toes curl into the bed sheets and he kissed above his fingers, still running soothing circles over the larger man’s spine.

After a while it became a lot more pleasurable than he remembered and he began moving his hips backwards to meet Dean's fingers. Sam was bigger than Dean, but the thought of Dean doing this to him and taking control had Sam so hard it hurt, "Mmm."

“You’re doin’ perfect,” Dean whispered softly, feeling his cock throb at the man before him, the bronze legs to either of his sides, the back arched as the glowing light behind the curtains before them fell over Sam, making him almost golden. His broad, thick, round shoulders and arms flexed with toned muscles. He was fucking gorgeous like this, so much that Dean was nearly ready to crawl under a goddamn rock from the awe stunting his mind.

“Think you’re ready for another?” He asked, voice tight as he kissed the younger man’s lower spine.

"Mhm," Sam mumbled as he looked back at Dean, his hips still moving to meet his fingers. It felt so good, Sam kept thrusting backwards, then he'd rut a little against the sheet for more friction.

Dean added more spit to his fingers, soaking the third the best he could before pushing it in as well, it was tight, a lot tighter, and he kissed Sam again, reaching underneath him to palm the man’s cock for ease.

"Dean," Sam bucked into Dean's hand and moaned, his back arched and his jaw went slack. Sam's thoughts kept filtering back and forth from _'christ this feels amazing, I want you so bad'_ to ' _I'm a little scared to do this, how do you make me feel this way?_ '

“Goddamn, you’re beautiful,” The words came out of Dean’s mouth before he even gave them permission to, and he smirked sheepishly, his fingers thrusting into Sam in time with the larger man’s shuddering body before him, timing the pumps of his fist below with each moment Sam’s hips came back towards the head of the bed.

Sam could feel his face burning like fire, no one had ever really said that to him before. He nibbled on his bottom lip and looked back at Dean again, making sure he had Dean's attention before he spoke, "I want you."

Dean looked down at his own cock, considering it for a moment, “I’m still kinda big, though,” He said, almost to himself before his eyes met Sam’s again, “It’s gonna burn real bad in the beginnin’, if you think you’re ready for that. It probably won't hurt **too** bad. Are you sure?”

Sam nodded eagerly, "I just want you, don't wanna wait." Dean was right though, he was **big** and it **was** going to hurt. It would be the kind of hurt that'd be easy to forget though, as long as Dean was the one doing this to him.

“How do you wan'it?” Dean asked, feeling the adoration of the other man twist in his chest as he continued to pump his fingers inside of Sam, “Your back or knees, on your stomach, laying down? Or you wanna ride me...?”

Sam shuddered at Dean's words, it was beyond him how the man could make something so dirty sound hot. In retrospect, riding Dean would probably be the best option, because he could control the rhythm and depth if need be. But, it's not like Sam knew how to **ride** anybody, "How do **you** want me?"

Sam countered with a grin. Sam knew he'd like just about any position Dean wanted him in, he knew he was in too deep the moment he realized he couldn't stop thinking about him.

“I want you whatever way you’re most comfortable with,” Dean responded, pulling his fingers out carefully and wiping them on the comforter, “Just tell me what you want, an’ I’ll do it.”

Sam rolled over and adjusted himself so that his legs were spread for Dean, he leaned up and pulled the older man's face down for a soft kiss, "Like this, I wanna see you."

Dean grinned into the kiss, climbing between Sam’s legs, hoisting his ass above Dean’s knees as he pulled back, spitting into his palm and rubbing it onto his length as he bit his bottom lip, “Just keep yourself relaxed, okay? Last thin’ I want is you splittin’ me in two.”

Sam thumbed Dean's jaw and returned the grin, he glanced down at Dean's cock and raised a brow, "No condom?" Not that he didn't like the idea, because that usually implied something more intimate; a _relationship_.

Dean looked unsure for a moment, glancing down at himself as his cheeks heated, “Well-I... Didn’t really come prepared,” He chuckled nervously, swallowing, feeling the confidence draining out of him, “‘Less you got some, I sure don’t.”

Sam shook his head like it was no big problem, "You're clean right? I trust you." He leaned up and kissed Dean reassuringly, "Unless you're not comfortable with this."

“M’clean, yeah,” Dean thought about it and nodded, looking back down at himself, “An’ well, I mean... I’ve... I’ve never really done it without protection. So this would actually be a first for me.”

Sam felt his chest swell and he bit his lip as he smiled, "Well, I still want it, but... I understand if you don't want to."

“No, I do,” Dean said at once, “I wanna, with you,” He smiled weakly, leaning down and pressing his lips to Sam’s, slow and sweet before he repositioned himself again, spitting into his hand once more.

"Just take it easy on me, alright?" Sam whispered against Dean's lips and spread his legs further for him.

It was silly, to think that just because Dean wanted to do this with him _without_ protection, that it meant anything more than that. Sam couldn't help the small inkling of hope he felt though, surely something like this had to be a step in the right direction, right?

“You know I will,” Dean responded, kissing Sam’s jaw as he took the larger man’s right leg, hiking it onto his shoulder, the left hooked between his right biceps and forearm as he held his cock in place, hips arching forward slowly, pressing into the worn, stretched band of muscle and breaking through careful and leisurely.

Sam closed his eyes and let out a ragged breath when he felt the burn, radiating through out his lower region like fire. He clutched at Dean's shoulders desperately and pressed his face to the other man's neck.

Dean kissed the side of Sam’s hairline, the hand on his thigh moving to wrap around Sam’s cock, pumping him slow and careful to help give him something more pleasurable to think of, his length eventually burying fully into the younger man.

Sam kissed at Dean's neck almost mindlessly, his mind focused more on the dull burn and the pleasure emanating from Dean's hand wrapped around him. If anything, it was a good combination of both, "S'not so bad," Sam's voice was low and muffled from Dean's neck.

“Not even started yet,” Dean breathed, a heavy, lower tone than he used normally, throat riddled with his own pain, his own lust, “Once I fuck that little sweet spot of your's, you won’t even have words to describe it. ‘S’not so bad’ll be a distant memory.”

Sam felt his muscles tighten around Dean instinctively, he was slowly but surely coming to terms with the fact that he liked when Dean talked dirty. In between shuddery breaths, his hands landed on Dean's lower back as his short blunt nails dug into whatever he could grab, " _Please_."

Dean pulled out slowly, leaving just the tip of his cock inside of Sam, “You want it?” He asked, teeth against the larger man’s ear, “Come on, Sam, tell me you want it.”

Sam felt his cock throb with need and he almost choked on his voice, "I do, Dean, _please_." Sam felt small little goosebumps break out all over his skin, every nerve was standing on end, "Fuck me." Yeah, he definitely liked when Dean talked dirty to him.

Dean, though careful not to hurt the other man, thrust in careful and steady, pulling back at once and slamming in again, his hips mirroring the motions of his fingers before, sure thrusts that were timed and angled for the ease of entrance. Sam was so tight and warm around him, it was unlike anything he’d ever felt before, for many, many reasons and he'd do fucking **anything** to stay inside of this man for the rest of his life.

Sam could tell that Dean was easing him into this and, if he could find his voice, Sam would thank him for it. It was overwhelming and amazed Sam how little it actually hurt when he thought about Dean instead, how attentive he was to Sam's movements, it was nice.

He wrapped his arms around Dean's shoulders and clutched tightly, bringing the other man's body closely to his.

“You okay?” Dean asked suddenly, raising his brows and looking into Sam’s eyes as he licked his lips. The other man wasn’t saying a thing, it was actually starting to worry him.

"Yeah, just-" Sam kissed Dean's jawline slowly, "Tryin' not to whine like a little bitch." Sam moved his hips towards Dean to further prove he was okay.

Dean chuckled as he responded with a thrust, “Whinin’ is fine, just don’t get silent on me, thought you were in pain,” He set into a steady rhythm, holding Sam’s hips firm in one palm, the other fist pumping the larger man’s cock with each of his thrusts.

Sam pressed his lips to the skin next to Dean's ear and traced patterns on the top of Dean's back with his fingertips, before he knew it, he was tracing out the word ' _mine_ ' in long drawn out strokes. He knew Dean wouldn't realize it, he was more in the moment than Sam was. Sam let out a low guttural moan and tried working his hips with Dean's.

“You want on top?” Dean offered, lips pressed against Sam’s ear as he continued burying himself, basking in the sound of their skin slapping together, “Wanna ride me?”

Just like that, Sam could feel his whole body shudder. Something about Dean's voice had dirty written all over it and it did things to Sam he didn't know was possible, "Yeah, think I do."

Dean rolled them over carefully, holding his length deep inside of Sam as he settled his back on the cold sheets and pillows just by where Sam had been laying before. “Better?” He asked, smirking up at the gorgeous man in front of him, sitting open and exposed in his lap, holy fuck.

Sam nodded almost shyly as he placed his hands on Dean's chest and started working his hips, a little slower than what Dean was doing, but it felt good all the same. Sam alternated between bouncing on Dean's lap and grinding down slowly, making sure they could both feel everything.

"Damn," Sam moaned and lolled his head back as he continued to work his hips down on Dean.

Dean licked his lips, watching Sam work above him, reaching forward and taking the larger man’s cock in hand, “Lean back, okay?” He said, smirking as he braced his heels, “Just a bit, lean back.”

Sam took the direction and leaned back as he placed his hands just above Dean's knees for support, "Fuck, Dean." He bit down on his bottom lip to stifle a moan.

Dean grabbed Sam’s hips tight, positioning them so, before he made one smooth, sharp, sudden thrust along Sam’s prostate. He kept his eyes on the larger man, watching him hungrily as he did it again.

Sam's head lolled back again, exposing the strong chords of muscles in his neck as he cried out, "Don't stop! _Please_." He tightened his grip on Dean's knees and dropped down whenever Dean bucked up into him, in result, leaving Sam a whining mess.

Dean took his bottom lip in between his teeth as he complied, fucking up into Sam, bouncing the larger man in his lap, hands pulling him down each time, harder and harder, and harder still; until he could feel the amazing burn in his thighs. His breath came out in sharp, short gasps with each upward thrust, dull nails digging into Sam’s waist as he did so.

Sam could feel the unmistakable sensation of an orgasm building, even though he hadn't touched himself. He bit down a sob of pleasure as he bounced down on Dean's cock, his own was throbbing and leaking at the slit, slapping at his stomach from the ferocity of Dean's thrusts. He wrapped a hand around the base of his shaft and squeezed, trying to prolong it for as long as he could.

Dean got a better grip with his heels, thrusting up into Sam faster, the rough smacking sound of their bodies filling the room as his grunts began spilling out of his mouth, bottom lip slipping from between his teeth as he started saying anything and everything, “Holy fuck, Sam. God- **goddammit** ,” He hissed, “So fuckin’ tight.”

It's like Dean knew just what to do, Sam's body clamped down on Dean's cock as he came. Blinding white filled his vision as he moaned out Dean's name, his come spilled over his hand and onto Dean's chest, "Ah, fuck yeah."

“Sam!” Dean gasped, sitting up, lips pressing together as the larger man squeezed around him, forcing out his own orgasm, nearly tearing it out with how suddenly tight he’d become, and Dean’s nails left little half-moon cuts in Sam’s hips as he came.

Sam wrapped his arms around Dean's shoulders and kissed him like he'd never see him again, heated and hungry as he ground his hips down a few more times.

He panted against Dean's lips, "Damn."

Dean, sitting up completely now, wrapped his arms around Sam’s torso, fingers splaying along his back, face flushed and eyelashes wet from unshed tears, panting into the larger man’s mouth as he smiled, “Words,” He breathed, “Right from my mouth.”

Sam kissed Dean nice and slow, his tongue tracing every crease on Dean's lips before he pressed his forehead to the other man's, "I don't think I can feel my legs." He grinned and sighed contently.

“Me neither,” Dean laughed, moving his hands and taking Sam’s face in his palms as he kissed the man on the lips, over and over again before moving outwards, his dimples, his cheeks and chin, his temples and forehead, the worry lines between his brows as Dean chuckled, arms and legs shaking as he did so.

Sam closed his eyes and leaned into Dean's kisses, any that weren't placed on his lips almost took him by surprise. Sam laid his right hand over Dean's on his face, his whole body still trembling from the orgasm, "I'm still not sure what this is between us," He admitted, his voice low, "But it's nice." That was the best Sam could do without sounding like a complete girl.

“Me neither, but,” Dean stopped, pulling back to look into Sam’s eyes, slightly breathless as he smiled and kissed him on the lips, “What do you want it to be?”

Sam shook his head and chuckled, "I don't know," Sam shrugged and kissed Dean again, it was like he couldn't get enough of him, "I just like being around you, it comes easy, natural almost."

Dean ran his hands down Sam’s arms, taking his wrists and staring into his eyes, “I want this to be official,” He said, and that was a word he **swore** he’d never use. _But he meant it._ He kept his gaze on Sam, trying to gauge his reaction before it happened, hoping that he hadn’t said the wrong thing.

Sam swallowed and watched Dean's face to see if he was serious, "What do you mean?" Sam knew exactly what he meant though, he wanted to see if he was under Dean's skin enough to get him to say it.

“Like...” Dean glanced down between them somewhat nervously, “Like together, like dating,” He looked up and met Sam’s eyes again, “Like ‘ **boyfriends** ’.”

"Yeah," Sam said, somewhat breathless that Dean actually said it, "Okay." He was at a loss for words, excitement was bubbling under the surface.

Dean turned his head slightly, somewhat unsure, “Uh... Is that a ' _yes_ ' or... More like a ‘ _not really, but I’ll pretend just for you_ ’?”

"It's more like an indirect answer 'cause you didn't exactly ask me," Sam pulled Dean's face back towards him and kissed the tip of his nose.

"Oh, **well** ," Dean chuckled, still staring into Sam's eyes, "Would you be my boyfriend?" That term reminded him of high school or something, but he ignored it, smiling instead; what he felt for Sam was already far too strong for that term, but it would suffice.

"Well, when you put it that way," Sam made a contemplative face before smiling and nodding, "Yeah, I will." He hated the word boyfriend, it made him feel like a thirteen year old girl or something. It didn't change the fact that he was excited though, more so than he was letting on.

Dean raised his brows, "You still don't sound very enthused."

Sam rolled his eyes and tackled Dean backwards, ravishing his lips, "Yeah? Well maybe I don't want to seem **too** excited, I'd hate to scare you away."

Dean chuckled, wrapping his arms around Sam’s waist and drawing him down into a soft, eventually heated kiss. His chest tightened at it, actually considering this for a moment, his **boyfriend**. He’d never had that title before, and now he did, with Sam.


	6. Chapter 6

After over three months of trying to hunt down his father, even returning home to Lawrence, Kansas, nearly dying and dealing with every horror that crossed their paths, Dean decided, finally, to return home and give up on the search. As far as he knew, John was fine, he was just being a stubborn, distant asshole, and Dean was tired of trying to follow after his father.

They returned late in the night, to Dean’s cold, abandoned apartment, which he’d paid for during the trip, and Dean parked the car just outside. He turned to Sam, who knew it was hard for him to finally give up, but they both had lives to return to.

He wanted to cry out of frustration with the entire thing, or punch something. He didn’t get violent, he simply... Laid his head against the top of the steering wheel, felt the familiar burning of tears as he tried to keep them back, he had to get inside first, at **least** that much.

Sam scooted over the leather seat and laid his hand on Dean's back, he pressed a kiss to Dean's ear, "Hey, it's okay." Sam hated seeing Dean like this, everything about it felt like a punch to the gut. He knew Dean was persistent, knew that he didn't want to stop looking for his dad. But it wasn't like John wanted to be found either, Sam was sure he'd come around eventually.

Dean sighed, heavy and weak, having seen far more things than he’d wanted to; during his trip, “Are uh...” He cleared his throat, “You uh, you gonna stay the night?”

Sam looked out the window, swallowing heavily when he realized just how much school he'd missed, "Do you want me to?" And that's what it all came down to, if Dean wanted him to or not. Sam cared too much about him and it would almost feel weird leaving his side.

“Please,” Dean said, reaching up and touching Sam’s jaw, “Please stay, I... I don’t wanna be alone, just yet. I don’t wanna sleep in that apartment alone, Sam-”  
"That's all you gotta say," Sam leaned in and kissed Dean's forehead, "I'll stay tonight." He squeezed Dean's knee reassuringly and feigned a smile for him, "C'mon."

Dean climbed out of the car, walking stiffly to the apartment once he’d locked up the Impala and jammed his key into the lock of the door, twisting and pushing it open as he clutched the bag of salt in his left fist. He dropped the keys by the tv, closing the door and lining it with salt the moment Sam was inside.

Sam threw his coat on the back of Dean's couch and slid his shoes off, the air in the apartment was stale due to their absence. He'd never really noticed how much like his father Dean was, there was hardly anything personal lying anywhere, much like John's hotel room.

"Hey, babe," Sam turned back to Dean after he finished salting the door, "Did you wanna go straight to bed or did you wanna watch a little TV?" Sam knew the answer already though, both he and Dean had been through the wringer and back over these past three months.

Dean grabbed Sam at once, pressing his face into the younger man’s neck as he clutched onto him. He felt his chest tighten as everything he’d been trying to hold back finally escaped, rocking his entire body as he sobbed against Sam, tears dripping onto his shoulder as Dean cried. It wasn’t just the failure to finally find his dad, that bothered Dean, it was everything else as well.

Everything they’d been through, in three abnormally long months he’d seen so many things he regretted already, and he’d brought Sam along for it. And to have his dad there, just out of distance, stringing them along like some goddamn puppets.

"Hey," Sam murmured against Dean's hair as he ran his fingers through it. It was rough seeing Dean like this, but Sam knew that when someone put up a wall like Dean did, it was bound to crumble down sometime.

The past few months were rough on the both of them and he knew Dean blamed himself for every bump and scratch Sam got, big or little. Not to mention that Sam was pretty sure John was purposefully avoiding Dean, for whatever reason was beyond Sam's imagination.

"Just let it all out, okay?" Sam wrapped his arms around Dean and slid them both to the floor so he could hold the older man better.

Dean felt like his heart was trying to lodge itself in his throat, choking him and making it hard to breathe, his entire skull hurt as his fists balled up in Sam’s jacket. He’d been holding this back for so long, keeping it inside, it actually felt good to let it out, and Sam was **always** here for him now. He deserved to know just how completely fucking damaged Dean was, before they both got too deep. Not many people want to deal with damaged goods. And that’s what Dean was, right? Damaged, ruined, irreparable? _Broken_. How had Sam even considered dealing with him, or settling for him? It still made no sense to him.

Sam sat with Dean in the floor, letting him get it all out of his system. He rubbed his hand along Dean's back, trying to soothe him the best he could as he placed kisses on his tear streaked face. Sam wasn't going to push Dean into telling him what all was wrong, he would open his mouth and tell him when he was ready.

If Sam would've went back to his dorm and left Dean to fall apart by himself, he never would've forgiven himself. That's when Sam realized it was going to be harder than he thought, to go back to school and try to catch up on his studies. **If** he could catch up at all, if he couldn't though, it's not like he'd leave Stanford empty handed.

* * *

Throughout nearly the entire night, Dean had woken up, either silent in Sam’s arms, terrified of going to sleep until Sam snuggled closer and he drifted out, or screaming until he woke the **both** of them up. It was entirely restless, and eventually they were put in such distress that the pillows had been flung from the bed, sheets were twisted around their bodies numerous times, and their legs and arms were tangled together.

Dean opened his eyes, his head resting on Sam’s left bicep, head softly numbed and vision clearing to see Sam laying there, staring at him in concern.

Sam brushed his thumb softly under Dean's eye after he woke up, he knew the concern on his face was obvious, "Wanna talk about it?" If Dean said no, Sam wouldn't push any further than that.

“No,” Dean said as he smiled sadly and moved in closer to Sam, “But I think I have to.” He really, **really** didn’t want to talk about his issues. But they weren’t going to go away, and Sam was; best to get it out now while the man was still here.

Sam pressed his lips to Dean's and lingered, breathing in the other man's air before pulling away, "I'll listen." Sam draped his arm over Dean's waist and pulled him impossibly closer, their legs still warm and tangled under the sheets.

“What we just did, these past three months,” Dean started, not looking at Sam, “That’s how I’ve felt like my whole life, since mom left. Like dad’s been just stringin’ me along. An’... It’s like-not catchin’ him, it’s like I proved him right. Comin’ home, givin’ up, returnin’ to safety an’ norm. I feel like he thinks I’ve proven him right, about me. That I just... That I’m a failure, I’ve always been like that to him; never good enough. Doin’ this, while it feels like the right thin’ to do... It’s just another nail in that coffin.”

Sam shook his head subtly, "Maybe he's just not ready to talk to you yet, I mean... you didn't exactly leave on the best terms, did you?" Sam frowned a little, unsure of how to make any of this better, "And If he's as good as you are and he doesn't **want** you to find him... He'll come around, babe. Don't worry about it, you're not a failure, you save lives."

“Oh, no, I **know** what it was,” Dean argued, “One of his fuckin’ games he plays, he always does the same damn thing, stringin’ me along like a goddamn fish on a line an’ I just get goin’ an’ goin’... It’s like I was never able to stop until he was pleased. That’s why I left. An’ now he’s just done it again. An’ not just at the cost of my life, but yours as well.”

"I'm still alive," Sam shrugged a little, "If you think it's a game, Dean, then why do you play along? If he wants to see you and I know it'd be hard, but make him come to you." Sam rubbed his hand softly along the side of Dean's ribs.

“Christ, I didn’t even realize what he was doin’ until we hit Lawrence,” Dean said, burying his face against Sam’s chest, “I don’t even wanna deal with him anymore. F’he needs me, he’s gonna have to go out of his way to come to me. I’m not doin’ that again, not to me, not to you. Now I’ve just fuckin’ scarred us both, put our lives in danger, an’ now our names are on the radar of anythin’ out there.”

"If anything, you've opened my eyes to what's _out there_. I should be grateful to you," Sam rested his chin on top of Dean's head, "You sure that's all that's botherin' you?" Sam hated to pry when it came to Dean, he hadn't been so persistent with him since before they started dating.

“No, that’s not everythin',” Dean admits and hides his face, “But I don’t wanna say the rest because it just sounds like stupid emo whiny shit, an’ I don’t wanna upset you, let alone possibly start an argument this early in the mornin’.”

"Do we ever **really** argue?" Sam nosed at the creases next to Dean's eye, "Tell me, please?"

“I think you’ve known for a while,” Dean started, looking at Sam weakly, “You’re smart, you’re bound to have figured out most of it on your own. That... I’m not... I’m really kinda damaged.”

Sam sighed, "I can't change the way you see yourself, but I can tell you that's not how I look at you." Sam was confused as to why Dean was bringing this up, was he trying to push Sam away?

“I just don’t understand why you deal with all of this,” Dean made a motion to himself, “Why settle for me when you could have anyone you want? It’s just-I don’t understand it, is all. You’re perfect, you could be with someone **just** as perfect, but you settle for someone like me. An’ the sex can’t possibly be good enough to deal with that.”

"I deal with it," Sam narrowed his brows as he thought the words through carefully, he couldn't lie to Dean, "Because I love you and before you say anything, you don't have to say it back 'cause that's not what this is about. I found you when I wasn't looking for anything and when the realization hit me that I didn't do so good when I wasn't around you, damn near knocked the wind out of me."

Sam kissed Dean's forehead, "I don't want anyone else. I want you, broken or not."

Dean closed his eyes and nodded, he couldn’t argue that, not at all. If that was how Sam felt, then that was how Sam felt, Dean had to trust his word there; and he did. “I can’t help feelin’ like that, though,” Dean said softly, “Just, that you’re wastin’ your time with someone like me.”

"You kidding? I love every second I get to spend with you, it's gonna drive me nuts when I go back to school," Sam grimaced and laced his fingers with Dean's.

“Me too,” Dean agreed at once, “I mean, we been down each other’s throats nearly the entire past three months.” He paused and smirked, “Some times literally.” He knew Sam meant what he’d said, but Dean just found it easier to ignore, easier to side step, so he didn’t have to admit that he didn’t believe Sam at all; even though he wanted to.

Sam pushed Dean flat on his back before straddling him playfully even though his face was serious, "You gonna miss me?"

“More than breathing, I think,” Dean said, staring up at the larger man with slowly widening eyes, his hands resting on Sam's hips, “Gonna miss you a lot.”

Sam leaned down so that their faces were inches apart, he played with Dean's hair idly, "M'gonna miss you too," he pressed a kiss between Dean's brows, "I'm still gonna try to make it over here every day after class." There was something in the back of Sam's mind telling him he'd already flunked out, who misses that much and still makes it through college?

Dean smiled, “Yeah, well, f'I’m not here I’ll probably be at the garage, if they take me back, that is. That’s uh... That’s where I was workin’ before.”

"You'll have to show me where it's at," Sam rolled back off of him, then wrapped his arm around Dean's torso.

“Just passed Stanford, on the other side, right hand side of the road, hard to miss,” Dean explained as he kissed along Sam’s jaw, “Every college student takes their car there.”

"I'll have to drop in every once in a while, make sure no one's tryin' to move in on my man," Sam never really thought of himself as the jealous type, but the thought of another guy **or** girl hitting on Dean was enough to get his blood boiling.

Dean chuckled and kissed the corner of Sam’s lips, “Oh come on, now. Calm down. You know, I didn’t even consider a relationship until you. None of those little girls will compare to somethin' like you.”

"' _Somethin' like me_ ', huh?" Sam grinned and kissed Dean lazily, "Hope that's a good thing."

“Perfect storm,” Dean explained, thumbing Sam’s chin, “Big, strong, man, loves me, an’ I obviously feel somethin’ for you, otherwise I woulda shaved a lot more. An’ your body, the sex is amazin’, you’re smart, you know my real life an’ you haven’t run away. You know I’m broken, an’ you **still** haven’t run away. Perfect storm. 'Somethin’ like you'.”

"Not going anywhere either, you're liable to get sick of me first," Sam looked at Dean with adoration in his eyes, he really did love him.

* * *

Sam **did** get caught back up with his school work, but just barely. Constant classes and exams he'd missed were taking up most of his time, leaving hardly any time at all for him to visit with Dean. Sam missed him though, days when he couldn't make it over he'd be sure to call Dean.

The days when he didn't have a lot to do were his favorite though, like today. They were laying in bed, legs tangled and their hands roamed each other idly. Sam was staring at Dean, a slight grin tugging at his lips, "You sure that's what you want?" His voice was low and hesitant. This was a big step in their relationship and Sam **wanted** to move in with Dean, he was just having a hard time processing the fact that Dean had actually asked.

“Yeah,” Dean said, his voice a little lighter than usual, but he stared into Sam’s eyes, serious and sincere. He’d been trying to get up the nerve to ask Sam for a **while** now, he didn’t want to move **too** fast, but... Well, he never knew what _too fast_ was; this was _all_ a first time for him. But he wanted it, and now it’d just came out. He hadn’t even **meant** to say it. “Yeah, that’s what I want,” He reaffirmed, sounding more sure this time.

"On **one** condition," Sam grinned and rolled over on top of Dean, straddling his thighs firmly as he bent over and kissed him.

Dean raised his brows, kissing back and resting his hands on Sam’s hips, “Hmm? What’s that?” He asked, voice low and husky, worn with sex.

Sam place long drawn out kisses along Dean's jaw before he leaned back and smiled, "Come have Thanksgiving dinner with me and my Mom this weekend?" Sam didn't know what Dean would say, introducing him to his mom would be another big step, considering she knew nothing about it - about **them**.

Dean swallowed, brows knitting together, “Uh... Are you sure? I mean-does she even know about... About...” He bucked his hips up suggestively, rocking their bodies against one another.

Sam closed his eyes for a brief second before shaking his head in a response, his hands were placed softly on Dean's ribs, "Thought we could tell her." He knew she'd be accepting, she wanted her baby boy to be happy and that's exactly what Dean did for him.

“Well, you know your mom better’n I do, f’this is what you want,” Dean looked at Sam, reaching up and touching his cheek, “I’ll go.”

He trusted Sam, more than his life, at this point. He’d do anything for the other man. He was practically **everything** to Dean, and he wanted... _More_. More time with Sam, who practically slept over most of the time anyways. But goddamn, did he want so much more for them.

Sam almost wiggled excitedly on Dean's lap before kissing the other man again, "Thank you! And yes, I'll move in."

He gazed down into Dean's big green eyes and wondered how he got so lucky, it was almost so overwhelming that it took his breath away. The realization calmed him down a bit, he'd never gotten quite so serious with anyone before, never loved anyone the way he loved Dean and it almost scared him a little.

Dean reached up, thumb tracing along Sam’s left side of his jaw before pulling him back down once more, perusing a slow, sensual, toe-numbing kiss that he felt fill his heart up, “Sounds perfect.”

* * *

With the better part of the weekend spent moving things, from the dorm rooms to Dean’s home, Sam still sleeping at his own place until Sunday, they finally managed to get everything settled late into the night.

Dean stood with his shoulder against the frame of the door, watching Sam situate a few things in his room. He felt good, having Sam move in, seeing the other man’s belongings slowly join his. As more of his room became Sam’s, he felt more sure about the idea of Sam moving in with him. It was a good idea, it wasn’t too fast. It was perfect.

“I like it,” He said, watching the other man’s backside, the long, lean muscles of Sam’s body flexing and relaxing as he moved around, setting things about, “Everythin’ feels like it fits.”

"Yeah?" Sam turned to look at Dean, his hands idly sorting through things in the box, "You're not gonna like kick me out after we have our first real argument, are you?" That was mainly the only thing bothering Sam, what if they were moving too fast? What happened if Dean decided he didn't want Sam living with him anymore?

Dean pushed off from the door frame and walked over to Sam, turning the taller man to him and setting his hands on Sam’s cheeks, “No, what do you think I am, a woman?” He chuckled, thumbing the larger man’s sideburns and kissing the corners of his mouth, pulling him down so that Dean could press his lips to the worry between Sam’s brows, “This is your place too, an’... I want this to work. We'll make it work. I mean, we were stuck in baby for how long together? An' we were fine.”

Sam grinned as he settled his hands on Dean's hips, pulling him closer as he gradually wrapped his arms completely around his waist. Sam nuzzled his face into Dean's neck and took a deep breath, "I love you so much it scares me sometimes."

It was rhetorical, but he'd only ever really told Dean one other time and he needed to say it again. It never bothered Sam that Dean didn't say it back, because Sam knew Dean cared about him, he showed it in the little things he did for Sam.

“I know,” Dean said, wrapping his arms around the other man’s shoulders, kissing gently along his neck and smiling, “I’m not an expert, by any means, but I’ve never felt like this before; not ever. It’s... Unexplainable.”

"I know right?" Sam mumbled into Dean's skin and closed his eyes, "It's just... **weird**." Sam's fingers traced lines against the small of Dean's back just under the hem of his shirt.

“Is it?” Dean chuckled as he dragged his teeth along Sam’s shoulder, “I wouldn’t know. I mean, my **whole life** has been weird. This seems like... Like it should be normal, I think.”

"I don't know," Sam shivered from the contact, "I've just never been so serious with someone else before, never cared this much." Sam had been in relationships longer than the one with Dean, but he never felt as connected with other people, not the way he felt with the older man. Sam knew that Dean held a certain power over him that no one else ever had and he also knew that Dean was the only person that could truly hurt him.

“I could say the same, but it really doesn’t amount to anythin’,” Dean stepped closer, holding Sam tighter in his arms, “I have nothin’ to compare it to, closest relationship I ever had was... Well, I-it’s nothin’. I mean, it’s family. Outside of ‘em, I’ve never really had anythin’ with any body. An’ I didn’t have much of a choice in _this_. I couldn’t **not** be with you, even if I wanted to. We know how that effort turned out.”

Sam kissed at Dean's face, "I don't think it worked out too well for either of us. But you... you were pretty bad." Sam remembered how wasted Dean was, he remembered him blaming Sam for it.

Dean chuckled, thinking back on it, “Yeah, I’m uh... I’m not sure I’ve ever been able to top my dad on drinkin’ more a day, until that. Think I coulda given him a run for his money, twice over.” It surely wasn't one of his proudest moments.

"Speaking of," Sam kissed him chastely on the lips before pulling away, he went back to his box, "You owe me a new pair of boots." Sam grinned and busied himself with sorting through his things, trying to figure out what went where.

“Oh yeah,” Dean moved forward, pressing his body flush to the back of Sam’s and kissing the nape of his neck, “Forgot about that.”

"Understandable," Sam leaned back into Dean's warmth, "You probably don't even remember me babying you."

“Hmm?” Dean asked in confusion, raising his brows, “What are you talkin’ about?”

Sam turned and grabbed Dean's face softly before kissing him, "The night I brought you home from the bar, because you were too drunk to even stand." Sam looked at Dean, positive at this point he didn't remember, "I drove you home, brushed your teeth, wiped you off and put you in bed."

Dean frowned even more, trying to think back to it, he honestly couldn’t remember a thing that Sam was talking about. He remembered falling down in the bar, sort of, being helped up by Sam, even remembered barfing on the poor guy's shoes, but he didn’t really remember much beyond climbing into the passenger’s side of the Impala and then waking up in the morning with a hangover.

“You did that...? You brushed my teeth?”

Sam smiled a little and nodded, "Yeah and had to practically force feed you some Tylenol, you were so stubborn." _You also kissed me and blamed me for everything._

“I don’t remember any of that,” Dean laughed, “I just remember wakin’ up the next mornin’ an’ bein’ so pissed at you. An’ seein’ you at the store. Goddamn, I wanted to murder you.”

"I practically clean up after your ass and you wanted to kill me?" Sam chuckled, "You're so sweet." He placed a kiss between Dean's brows.

“No, it’s not like that,” Dean grinned though, holding Sam’s biceps as he smiled so wide it reached his eyes, “I thought you were bein’ an asshole. I thought...Well, just lookit our positions. I was a guy at a bar with barely ten bucks to his name, sharkin’ pool, sleepin’ around. You were like... ‘Mister Perfect’. Mister Pre-Law, college boy, an’ I just thought you were... Actin’ all superior. The letter on the fridge, that was the tip, thinkin’ you were chidin’ me for drinkin’. While you might’ve been, an’ I understand, I was bein’ stupid... I just...”

Sam shook his head and barely pressed his lips to Dean's to shut him up, he didn't have to finish, Sam understood completely. It wasn't like he came out and told Dean that he could barely stop thinking about him back then, so Dean hating him sort of made sense.

"I was just concerned about you, even then I think I liked you... a **lot** , even though you were always a jerk to me," Sam brushed his fingers against the soft bristle of Dean's hair.

“I still can’t believe I threw that entire thing of coffee grounds at you,” Dean said, grinning once more and biting his bottom lip, “I normally don’t get so violent like that; but I was hungover an’ pissed. I think the only person that’s made me angrier’n that has been my dad. Those are arguments you don’t even wanna imagine.”

"You know how long it took me to get that shit outta my hair?" Sam practically growled as he pushed Dean backwards until they hit a wall.

He stood, his body pressed firmly against Dean's as he drank the sight in appreciatively, "I think a little pay back is in order, don't you?" His face was serious, his eyes constantly flickering to Dean's mouth.

Dean’s eyes widened in surprise, lips popping apart slightly as he stared up into Sam’s face, “Still don’t regret it. In my head, it was justice. An’ just seein’ you covered in the shit was so worth it.” He smirked deviously at Sam, raising his brows in challenge.

Sam pressed his hips to Dean's as he leaned in, his tongue flicked out to taste the sensitive skin just beneath his ear. He propped one hand against the wall beside Dean's head as he palmed Dean's cock with the other, his lips still nipping and kissing along Dean's neck.

“Sam,” Dean breathed, arching against the larger man and moaning. His body nearly shivered in pleasure, feeling Sam’s hands on him, “Please.”

Every time they got like this, with Sam being so dominant, Dean took the bottom card better than even he’d expected of himself, wanting the other man inside of him so much that it nearly _hurt_. He looked down between them, his own hands up on Sam’s shoulders, moving to smooth along the expanse of his chest.

Sam breathed heavily against Dean's ear as he continued to palm and grab at Dean, gradually making him harder. He moved his hand from the wall to take the opposite side of Dean's neck, he smeared kisses along Dean's jaw until he reached his mouth.

He leaned into Dean heatedly, sliding his tongue into Dean's mouth and moaning before he pulled away, "Please what?"

“Please, Sam,” Dean breathed against the larger man's mouth, cheeks flushing, “Please, I want you so bad,” He pressed his nose against Sam’s, staring into his eyes, “Touch me.”

He was beyond feeling embarrassed for how easy and needy he was. Sam was his... Well, his **boyfriend** , and he was the only person that was going to see Dean like this. And, no matter how easy, or desperate, or how dirty they got, the man before him still respected Dean completely; even when Dean, himself, realized that sometimes he pushed it too far.

Sam stopped touching Dean all together before moving back a little, what he did was harsh, but this **was** payback. Sam's face went from serious to amused within seconds, Sam almost doubled over in laughter despite his own hard on, "No way, this is payback for the coffee in my hair." Seeing Dean so strung out and needy had Sam testing his limits though, he almost couldn't stop.

Dean frowned, narrowing his brows, “What?” He asked, looking at Sam.

It was almost like a smack in the face and it shocked him how much it hurt to have the other man pull away. Had he... _Done something wrong? What had he said?_ "Sam...?"

Sam mock-pouted in return, "Payback is a bitch, huh?" Sam crossed his arms over his chest as he glanced down and noticed they were both still hard, "Blue balls won't kill you." Even the frown on Dean's face was absolutely adorable, Sam was in over his head.

“What?” Dean couldn’t explain the feelings he was having, the sudden doubt clenching at his insides and he blinked, his arms dropping to his sides. He had... _Never felt like this before_. His instant thought was to move, to get away, to make distance, and only one thing came to mind.

“I’m... I’m gonna go shower,” He pushed from the wall and walked passed Sam, hoping the other man didn't see how upset he was.

Dean closed the bathroom door behind him without even bothering to grab a change of clothes. He was so embarrassed and humiliated that he was shaking, tears were in his eyes. It was stupid, but he couldn’t quite explain it, it just _hurt_.

Sam watched Dean leave the room with a dumbfounded look on his face, he had just been joking around and yet Dean left like Sam just actually hurt him. He followed and stood outside of the bathroom door, he pounded a few times and laid his forehead against the door, "Babe! What did I do? I was just playin' with you."

He felt like shit, still unsure of what went wrong. He'd just been trying to get him back for the coffee ground incident.

Dean locked the door and turned the shower on so that Sam couldn’t hear him. He began stripping carefully from his clothes, trying to keep back the painful stinging in his chest and out along the bottoms of his arms and the palms of his hands. It was normally like a woman to take these things this way. But, with Sam, with the trust, the confidence – and Sam did these things some times, little things, like when he hadn’t initially trusted Dean with the ghosts.

His **father** made him feel like this, often enough, denying him something he wanted, and Dean didn’t respond to those well, either. Just hearing Sam’s voice through the door nearly caused physical pain.

Sam bumped his head against the door before he turned around and slid down the wall, "Dean, I'm sorry. Whatever I did, I'm sorry. I won't joke around anymore." This was a wonderful way to kick off them living together, apparently joking was off limits.

He sat against the wall with his knees pulled to his chest, he sighed heavily and dropped his face into his hands, "I love you."

Dean felt unreasonable and stupid for even locking himself in the bathroom in the **first** place so, before climbing under the warm spray of the shower, Dean unlocked and opened the door.

Relationships were about making things work, making things last, and he shouldn’t shut Sam out. Even though he was hurting, and it was bothering him, he needed to give Sam **some** way to make it up; but he wouldn’t make it easy.

Dean moved back from the door and climbed into the shower, keeping his head down as he washed his hair.

Sam heard Dean unlock the bathroom door, he stood and entered the foggy room slowly. Instead of taking his clothes off, Sam climbed into the shower behind Dean fully clothed. He could tell he hurt Dean somehow just by the posture of his shoulders.

Sam moved up behind him, he wrapped one arm around his waist as he settled his other hand on Dean's hip. He pressed his cheek next to Dean's over his shoulder, "I'm sorry for whatever I did. Just talk to me, please?"

Dean looked down to the arm around him, felt his body respond to Sam's, and he knew he should forgive the other man, or be reasonable, but he hated how easy it was to just lean back against the larger man. He didn’t really **know** Sam, he wasn’t like blood, or family, and yet Dean forgave him so easily. He wanted to, but he fought it back.

Sam hurt him so easy this time, without even caring, he could do it again. But what did Dean say back? Nothing. He leaned into Sam, but that was it, continuing to wash himself instead, feeling Sam’s clothes becoming increasingly soaked as he showered.

Sam sighed and pressed a kiss to Dean's temple, "I'll wait. You can tell me what I did to fuck up when you're ready." He made no effort to move away from Dean, he still wasn't one hundred percent sure what he did to hurt Dean, but he **would** fix it; he had to.

Finally, Dean turned off the shower, standing there, dripping, soaking wet and facing away from Sam as he spoke, “I hate this. What you do, sometimes. It’s like I can’t even control it. Like I’m hurting or angry before I even understand why, myself.”

He turned to look at Sam finally, eyes rimmed red and pink, puffy from crying, “I don’t even have control of it. But you can’t do things like that to me.” He felt his chest tighten, “I get the pay back thin’ or whatever you were tryin’ to do, but I can’t take that from you, Sam; the pullin’ away. Douse me in molasses an’ cover me in feathers or somethin’, hide my car keys so I’m late for work, but what you did... Don’t do that. I feel like you don’t want me, I feel like I’ve done somethin’ wrong. I was just... Embarrassed. Humiliated.”

He looked down to his feet, shaking his head, “I’ve never felt like that before, not in my whole life.”

Sam nodded in understanding before he caressed Dean's wet cheek, he grimaced, "Okay, I won't do it again, m'sorry."

He felt like an ass, he never stopped to consider that maybe Dean felt this way, felt like Sam didn't want him. He knew that the man he loved was broken and that this thing between them would take time to develop, he just never thought it'd be so easy to hurt him by joking, "Of course I want you."

He pressed his forehead to Dean's and kissed the tip of his nose, "I always want you. I'm sorry for hurtin' you." It would almost hurt less to just have Dean punch him in the gut rather than see the hurt in the other man's eyes.

While Dean knew what Sam was saying, he didn’t take it to heart, he never did. And he probably shouldn’t, considering how easy it had been for Sam, to hurt him so. He wrapped his arms around Sam’s neck and tried to man-the-fuck-up for once. If his father saw him like this, he’d be embarrassed, definitely disappointed.

Dean dropped his face against the wet front of Sam’s shirt, trying to hide his tears, trying to keep them at bay. He shouldn’t be crying or being so emotional about any of this, maybe if Sam didn’t notice, he wouldn’t know about **too** much of the damage. Dean knew hiding things in a relationship wasn't wise, but he was always afraid, now more than ever, of how... How vulnerable he was. Sam wasn't nearly as bad as him, you'd think he'd've been raised by John, he had more of a spine, was more of a man; Dean didn't even come close.

Sam wrapped his arms around Dean and pulled him into a tight wet hug, "I didn't know that joking that way would hurt you, Dean. I'm sorry, you gotta believe me." He ran his fingers through Dean's wet hair as he held him close, "I didn't mean to hurt you."

“You think I know how any of this works?” Dean asked, trying to avoid cracking in his voice, and not really succeeding, as he kept his face down against Sam, “I don’t understand this, I don’t know how any of this works. I’ve never been with **anyone**. I’ve never been around another person longer than a few hours, that wasn’t my dad or somethin’. I don’t know how people do this, just trust someone else so easily. How is it worth it, if it hurts this bad?”

Sam frowned at Dean's choice of words but he didn't pull away, "I accidentally hurt you and now you're questioning whether or not **this** -" Sam pulled back a little to gesture between the two of them, "Is worth it? Dean, I've never been with someone so intimately before, we're both going to make mistakes along the way. But, I want to do that because I want to be with you. It's a learning process and I'm **not** perfect - doesn't mean I don't want you."

Dean looked down at Sam’s hand, “I just don’t understand why anyone would want to deal with this. It’s stupid, you did this one thing an’ I felt... I felt so horrible, I felt so unwanted an’... I still do. If you can make me feel like that without trying, how bad would it feel if you did?”

He looked up at Sam finally, cheeks soaked with tears, “What if you tried? Cause I don’t think I could take that.”

Sam backed Dean against the cold tile, looking down into the sad green eyes, "I would **never** try to intentionally hurt you, I fucking love you." Sam shook his head, trying to read Dean's mind just to figure him out, "What do I need to do to prove to you that you're **all** I want?" Sam leaned up against him, his brows furrowed.

Dean, though feeling intimidated and hurt, over emotional, stupid, and worthless, felt the desire build back up. He was such a sexual person, having Sam push him back like this stirred the need up inside of him once more.

He tried to stay on track, to answer Sam, but nothing he was going to say would ever make the other man happy. Dean could never accept that Sam wanted him, because he **didn’t**. He knew that, eventually, Sam would get tired of him and move on. Dean just had to squeeze as much time out as he could get, had to accept fate, and try to keep Sam as long as he could. So, he kind of had to lie, he had to give Sam some form of hope that Dean would get better.

“It’s fine, I believe you,” but he didn’t, and Dean tried to look as convincing as possible.

Sam grabbed Dean by the jaw a little roughly and forced Dean to keep his eyes on Sam, "You don't believe me, I've been around you long enough to know your tells. I know when you're lying to me." Sam pressed his body more firmly against Dean's, his brows still taught in an inquisitive manner, "We need trust, Dean. Look at me and tell me I'm lying. I swear, I **never** meant to hurt you." Sam's free hand was squeezing Dean's hip so tightly his knuckles were white, he **needed** Dean to believe him.

“Sam, I–” Dean’s eyes widened more. He’d never had someone like this, more stubborn than his father, more insistent, and less submissive, which was saying something; considering John didn’t do submission in any way. But he’d ignored Dean. And Sam wasn’t going to, clearly.

He felt this sudden, soft twinge, in him, tears even, at the words, and he nodded, eyes set firm on Sam’s. Having the man so close, smelling him, feeling him, Dean was so hyper-aware that he was practically numb; overwhelmed with a pleased, satisfied, surprised feeling. He knew he’d need more coaxing, knew he wasn’t quite out of the forest, but he liked where Sam was leading him, and to counteract the feelings he’d had before, the comfort was stronger.

"Next time you feel like I'm being an ass, kick me in the balls or something," Sam pressed his forehead to Dean's temple before settling a kiss next to his eye, "Just don't shut me out, I can't handle that." Sam wasn't the same person he was before he met Dean, he'd grown to have a little more patience, he knew he'd need it with Dean. If it took all the time in the world, he would make Dean see just how much he cared.

“I don’t even think I registered what I was doin’ before it was done, Sam,” Dean admitted, wrapping his arms around the taller man’s torso and hugging him close, “I was just hurt an’ movin’. Didn’t have much control ‘til I was in here an’ stripped down, so I let you in. I...” He looked into Sam’s eyes, “I don’t wanna shut you out, we can’t do that to each other.”

"No," Sam agreed, "We can't, not if we value what we have. I know I do." Sam was getting a little chilly, the wet clothes almost making his teeth chatter.

Dean nodded, “Me too, I do, I mean...” He leaned in, arms moving up, palms touching the back of Sam’s neck before his fingers tangled into his damp hair as Dean pulled him down, staring into his eyes, their faces just a breath apart as he mouthed against the taller man’s lips, “I love you, Sam.&rdqu


	7. Chapter 7

Sam stilled his chattering teeth long enough to back away a little, he looked at Dean almost confused. Sam swore he felt his heart skip a beat, he felt so overwhelmed and full of love that he thought he was going to bust at the seams, "S-Say it again," Sam willed himself to lean into Dean, pressing their lips together briefly, "Please?"

“I–” Dean was sort of surprised by Sam’s response, but he smiled, staring up at the larger man still, slightly nervous, “I love you, Sam. I love you.” He meant it, more than anything, and it almost hurt to say the words. He knew they were serious, and Dean didn’t take these things lightly, but he could see that Sam understood just how serious they were.

Sam almost choked on his tongue at Dean's words, "I love you too, so much." He didn't hesitate, he pressed his lips to Dean's again in a more heated reassuring kiss. The heat between the two of them helped keep Sam warm.

Dean breathed in sharp through his nose, holding Sam tight in his arms, hands reaching down to the hem of the other man’s shirt, lifting the wet material up to pull it off of him. He loved hearing Sam return the emotions, and it sort of bothered Dean that he hadn't been able to give Sam it, before, but he figured he'd needed time - as well.

Sam lifted his arms and let Dean remove his shirt before he pressed back into him. Sam planted slow lingering kisses along Dean's collar bone, "M'cold." Dean's words were still lingering in the back of his mind and he couldn't help the easy smile that spread across his face.

“I can tell,” Dean responded, smiling against Sam’s lips as his hands move to the other man’s belt buckle, “What’s say we get you outta those pants, an' get you all warmed up in bed, with me?”

"Sounds nice," Sam looked down and watched as Dean undid his belt buckle, he stepped out of his wet pants and shivered slightly. Tiny little goosebumps broke out all over Sam's skin as he stood close to Dean, even though they were both wet, Sam could feel the warmth coming off of the other man.

Dean pushed Sam’s boxers down as well, moving carefully as they stepped out of the shower and across the linoleum flooring, soft slaps of their footfalls underneath as Dean walked backwards, kissing Sam’s neck and shoulder as his hands clasped Sam’s sides.

Sam wrapped his arms around Dean's shoulders, he loved that Dean trusted him enough to walk him backwards without running him into anything. The skin on skin was nice, Sam was already heating up just by being pressed to Dean like this. He closed his eyes momentarily and played with the back of Dean's hair, reveling in just how soft and warm Dean's lips were on him.

“I love you,” Dean whispered once more, lips against Sam’s ear suddenly as they reached the bed and he moved, laying down and pulling Sam on top of him, legs spreading to receive the larger man as he stared up into his eyes.

Sam lowered himself on top of Dean gently, almost completely mesmerized by the amount of love he could see just in the older man's eyes alone. Sam smiled warmly and brushed Dean's cheek with his thumb, "Let me make love to you." It wasn't something Sam had ever really let himself do with anyone else, and for good reason, he never loved **anyone** the way he loved the perfectly imperfect man beneath him.

Dean swallowed and nodded, reaching up and touching the back of Sam’s neck, blinking all slow and nervous as he smiled. The phrase wasn’t one he’d ever thought **he’d** hear, or be involved with. But the thought of it, to be sexually serious with someone, someone like Sam, was almost terrifying for him. He wanted it, though. To be open, to be... _Intimate_. For it not just to be **fucking** sporadically, or all of the quick handjobs and impatient sex they normally had. He liked the idea of them being closer than that.

"Please," He said, feeling his cheeks heat and remembering the smack of rejection from earlier, but trying to ignore it.

Sam pressed his lips to Dean's cheek slowly, stopping in the middle to kiss his lips before kissing the other cheek. His hand slid down Dean's biceps, he wanted to feel every inch of skin under his fingertips. Once he reached Dean's wrist he dragged his hand back up Dean's side, the tips of his fingers feeling out each divot between his rib cage.

He leaned back a little and slid down Dean's body, smearing kisses along his chest until his lips lingered above Dean's heart, "You're beautiful," Sam looked up at Dean through his shaggy bangs. It didn't matter that the term was usually meant for women, Dean **was** beautiful, every inch of him.

“Sam,” Dean blushed more, surprised by the other man’s choice of word, but he didn’t know how to respond. He wasn’t sure how Sam saw that, how Sam could adore him in any way, but it was comforting to hear it. He reached down, brushing the larger man’s bangs back. Did he say 'thank you'? Did he return the sentiment? What if what he said was the wrong thing?

“Please,” He breathed, unable to say anything else still and he dropped his head back, trying to hide how embarrassed he was. Sex he could do, sex he was familiar with, but this was different. And he wanted more of it, but his responses weren’t going to be nearly up to par.

Sam pressed his lips to Dean's chest one more time and smiled, "I've got you."

He touched a few more kisses to Dean's stomach and he couldn't help but smile when the soft skin gave beneath his lips, regardless of Dean's hard macho man exterior. It was almost a turn on, how pliable his skin was to Sam's touch. He gave two slow lingering kisses to the bones protruding slightly from Dean's hips before he slid back up his body.

Sam drew two fingers into his own mouth and sucked lightly, gliding his tongue lazily between them to make sure they were both wet enough. He dropped his hand between the two of them, pressing his lips to Dean's as his forefinger rubbed around the other man's puckered entrance before pushing in slowly. Sam wanted to take his time with Dean, he wanted this to last.

Dean shifted at once, legs widening and hiking up over the sheets, toes touching the comforter beneath them just barely as he kissed Sam, his body rising against the larger man. He was use to the pressure inside of him, the soft surprise, spread open often enough; by so many men before Sam. Never like this though, never twice, never more than that. Never staring into the man’s eyes, feeling and knowing that he was Dean’s everything, that he’d be miserable without the other person.

Never knowing that afterwards, he’d stay the night, he’d sleep in the same bed. And he’d still be there in the morning, and within a few short days... they would be eating at the other man’s house, meeting his **mother**. Dean kissed back, fingers tangling in Sam’s hair as his entire being responded to the man above him.

Sam's lips were constantly kissing Dean somewhere, soft kisses between his neck then back to Dean's mouth. He worked his finger in and out of Dean steadily before adding another, scissoring and stretching him at a slower pace than they were used to. Sam would occasionally roll his hips against him, his cock sliding perfectly next to Dean's as he continued to open him up. Taking things so slow was a little overwhelming, but he knew that Dean was worth it, had to be if he could just walk into Sam's life and make him care the way he did.

“Please,” Dean said, annoyed now at the needy, whiny sound of his voice, his body twisting, hips moving down onto the large hand pressing into him, desperate for more. He dropped one of his arms from Sam’s longer hair and licked at the pads of his index finger and thumb, taking his left nipple between them and rolling it almost savagely.

“Sam, please,” He breathed, dropping his head back as he dragged the dull half-moons of his nails over the hardened bud.

"Okay," Sam whispered in Dean's ear as he withdrew his fingers, his voice a little ragged from his own want. Sam reached under the pillow where they kept the lube at most of the time, popped the lid and poured some in his hand. He slid his hand along his length, coating it well enough before he positioned himself.

He made sure that his lips were on Dean's as he pushed in, so slow it almost ached. His hand roamed up and down the length of Dean's thigh before he hiked it up on his hip, his lips now kissing mindlessly at the smaller man's collar bone.

Dean moaned in surprise, eyes practically rolling back in his head as he felt Sam pushing in, the full length of the other man’s girth taking it’s time to fill him up. _Goddamn_ , practically every inch of it took his breath away. He kept his own hand on his chest, his other mirroring it on Sam’s, taking the larger man’s nipple between his wet fingers and worrying it until it was as hard as a pebble.

Sam moaned as he pushed in completely, his breathing almost strangled. It didn't matter how much or how often they had sex, it always felt like the first time all over again. Dean was always so perfect and tight around him, practically making him come undone before he ever even started.

He kissed Dean's jaw before he pulled almost completely out and then he pushed back in, his hips rolling and grinding into Dean at a steady but not too slow rhythm, "You're perfect."

Dean blushed at the comment, every time Sam said things like that, he felt this little twist inside of him, like his heart was going to explode or something. Dean smiled the best he could, touching Sam’s cheek as he stared up at the other man, still unable to find the words, so the first thing that came to him spilled right out of his mouth without asking his brain first, “Goddammit, feels fucking amazing.” His eyes hardened slightly, worried he’d said the wrong thing, suddenly terrified as his hips stopped responding, leaving Sam to thrust into him without Dean’s body rocking back in turn.

Sam continued grinding into Dean, he changed position slightly so that he'd hit Dean's prostate a little better. His hand left Dean's thigh and he cupped his face instead, he pressed his nose to Dean's, " **You** feel amazing," Sam's jaw went a little slack, each pull damn near had him coming.

Dean’s eyes widened, having Sam’s words rocking into him with each thrust, pushing him, nearly pulling screams from his lips and he moved to slow the larger man, “Wait, not yet, I... Please, I wanna be on you,” He said, breathless and body flushed as he held himself back.

Sam nodded into the crook of Dean's neck before wrapping his arms completely around him - he rolled them both, putting Dean on top of him. Sam's hands settled on the other man's hips as he pulled him down, how deep he could get with Dean on top was almost intoxicating. He bit his lip and pushed his head back into the pillow, moaning with each pull.

Dean spread his legs carefully, even as they shook under him. He leaned forward, staring down at Sam as he pressed his palms to the larger man’s pecks, lifting his thighs and dropping back onto Sam’s length as he panted. He worked the man beneath him, rolling his hips and reaching down to run feather light touches over his own cock, thumb and forefinger teasing himself. He felt the most naked like this with Sam, on top of him, exposed, but he loved being in control.

Sam ran his hands along Dean's inner thighs before his right hand wrapped around Dean's length, wanting the other man to come by Sam's hand and not his own. He wasn't rough, his squeeze was light even as he pulled and focused on the head of Dean's cock. He tightened his muscles and thrust up into Dean when his hips would come down, both of them working together perfectly.

His left hand roamed Dean's chest, pinching and tugging lightly on his nipples. He'd never really seen Dean in this light, so completely exposed - almost vulnerable looking - but Sam loved it.

“Dammit,” Dean said, dropping down and kissing Sam, slowing the rise and fall of his body to take Sam’s lip between his teeth. Having the other man’s hands on him, touching him, touching his nipples, it was definitely something he approved of.

His body was shaking now, he was so _close_ , but still, not yet, “On me again, please,” He asked, lips shivering against Sam’s ear.

Sam smiled against the side of Dean's face before he rolled him back over, sliding back into him like they didn't even change positions. His hand was still between them, working on Dean as he continued to thrust into him. Grunts and moans were almost spilling from his mouth non-stop at this point, he was so close and Dean was so gorgeous; writhing and moaning beneath him, " **God** , I love you."

“I love you,” Dean responded, affirming Sam’s words and returning them back with how he said it, eyes intent on the other man, body arching as he felt the sharp, sudden prick of tears in the corners of his eyes. It happened without warning, his entire frame shuddering, legs trembling as he came.

Sam held onto him as he felt Dean's body tightening around him, the warm liquid spilling between them and Dean returning the words had Sam coming seconds after Dean. He slammed in a few more times, his body shaking as he moaned loudly; this being one of the most intense orgasms he'd ever had with Dean.

He could feel his toes practically curl as he filled Dean up, his arms collapse shortly after he came. His hair was a sweaty mess, sticking out everywhere and stuck to his skin. Sam laid his head on Dean's chest as he panted.

Dean’s legs tightened around Sam and he smiled, wrapping his arms around the larger man and combing his shaking fingers over Sam’s forehead, wiping the bangs back.

“Well,” He said, grinning wider, “An’ I thought it was intense our **first** time.” He laughed, his whole body practically humming now as he kissed between Sam’s brows.

"Mmm," Was all Sam could produce at the moment, every single part of him was tingling. Sam lifted his head enough to steal a kiss before he dropped his head back to Dean's chest, the rhythmic _thump, thump_ of his heart beat was almost soothing to Sam.

Dean chuckled more, "Yeah," He squeezed Sam tightly close in his arms, rolling them over all slow and careful as he began planting soft, gentle kisses over the other man's face and shoulders.

Sam ran his fingers through the top part of Dean's hair, humming in approval as he closed his eyes, "Feels nice." Sam had never felt quite so drained after sex, both emotionally and physically.

“Hmm?” Dean asked, looking up to Sam as he moved lower, kissing down along Sam’s chest and stomach.

"Your kisses," Sam responded sluggishly, tugging lightly at Dean's hair.

The smaller man smiled as he took Sam's length up in his mouth, running his tongue over the slick stick of it, tasting Sam's familiar, sweet come and humming in approval as he did so.

"What are you-" Sam's eyes shot open, practically choking on his breath, "What are you doing?" The answer was obvious enough though. Despite Sam being sensitive from just having sex with Dean, he could feel himself starting to fill up again.

Dean glanced up, the soft slurping sound of his ministrations practically echoing in the room as he felt the cock hardening between his lips. He couldn't help himself, he wanted to taste Sam, it'd been so long since he'd had his lips around the other man, and he needed it.

"Dean," Sam propped his torso up on his elbows, his hand still idly in Dean's hair, "You don't **have** to."

God knows being able to make love to him was all he could've asked for, he was sort of taken aback by how eager he seemed - to please Sam. Despite Sam telling him he didn't have to do anything, his body was inevitably responding to Dean's gestures.

“Want to,” Dean said as he moved up quick to kiss Sam back down onto the bed, “Want to taste you,” He continued as he dropped to the swelling cock again, taking it between his lips once more.

Sam's head lolled back between his shoulders, shuddery breaths pulled from him anytime Dean would suck specifically on the head. He licked his dry lips and was able to taste both himself and Dean, " **Fuck**."

Dean ran his hands over Sam’s thighs, squeezing the muscles before he took some of the mess from his stomach, spreading it between his fingers before he reached underneath Sam, using it to press his first finger into the man as he worked his mouth around the shaft of Sam’s cock.

The larger man dropped back completely and balled the sheets in his fists, bucking up slightly into Dean's mouth. The man had a mouth made for sin and he knew how to use it.

He swiped his thumb along the corner of Dean's mouth while he was going down on Sam, "God damn, you're gorgeous."

Dean looked up through his lashes, staring into Sam’s eyes as he took the entire length in his mouth, his fingers inside of Sam curling around to brush along his prostate.

Sam could feel his orgasm building already, Dean's mouth wrapped around him with his fingers hitting that spot, there was no way Sam would last long anyway. He focused on Dean's face; the long swept eyelashes next to those **insanely** beautiful green eyes, the way his freckles made him look young but the crinkles next to his eyes made him look wise beyond his years, "M'gonna come."

Dean thrust his fingers into Sam a few times, worrying the bundle of nerves as he lolled his tongue around the head of Sam’s cock, humming and relaxing the muscles of his jaw and throat as his mouth filled with that same sweet, slightly tangy come.

"Dean," Sam came easily, it was hard not to when it was Dean drawing it out of him. Sam put one arm over his face and took a deep breath, he was tired **before** , at this point he was practically falling asleep with each passing second. Sam lowered his other arm and offered Dean his hand to pull him back up.

Dean swallowed, licking Sam clean before he took the larger hand within his own and lacing their fingers together, climbing up beside Sam and pulling the comforter out from under where it had been pushed and ruffled around their legs during sex. He curled up close, kissing Sam’s jaw and chin lazily.

“Mmm, love you,” He said, grinning as it came out.

Sam turned his head slightly to catch Dean's lips, "I love you too."

He couldn't help but smile, that was one thing he didn't think he'd ever get tired of hearing. Sam's grip tightened on Dean's hand and loosened again, his thumb stroking idly at the skin.

* * *

Dean shifted nervously as he tried to roll back his sleeves between them, glancing at the tie as Sam fixed it, “Not my fault, I’ve never really been much of a ‘dress-up’ kinda guy.” He chuckled, “I don’t think I’ve ever even really celebrated Thanksgiving. Well, not since... You know.”

Sam tugged and pulled Dean's tie into place, smiling while he did so, because damn did he look good dressed up, "Well, it **definitely** works for you," Sam winked at him before he moved to the edge of the bed to pick up his own suit coat, "And as far as the dinner goes, don't be nervous. I know she's gonna love you."

“I don’t have to wear one of those, do I?” Dean asked, all but glaring at his coat, sitting just beside Sam’s, “I mean... They look stiff.” And he’d just rolled back his sleeves, it wasn’t exactly his thing. Hell, white wasn’t either, but a coat? He shuddered at the thought, “Tell me I don’t have to wear that thing.”

Sam slid his coat on and moved back over in front of Dean before kissing his cheek, "Shame, I've got a thing for guys in suits." Sam adjusted his collar as he grinned at Dean.

“This is 'suit' enough, right?” Dean asked, glancing down at his slacks, “ **You** look good though.” He reached out, taking Sam’s waist up in his palms and pulling their bodies closer, “You look **really** good.”

Sam's fingers twisted up into the back of Dean's hair as he leaned into the smaller man, "I'd stop if I were you or it'll all go to my head," Sam pressed his hips towards Dean's to let him know he wasn't necessarily talking about his brain.

Dean raised his brows, smirking and reaching between them, fingers brushing the front of Sam’s pants as he moved his mouth to the taller man’s ear, lips ghosting against the shell of it as he whispered huskily in response, “That’s not a bad thin’, is it?”

"How do you think my Mom would react if I showed up with a stain on my slacks?"

Sam nosed along Dean's temple, "As soon as we get out of there though, we could finish celebrating Thanksgiving in the backseat of your car." Dean's voice was going straight to his groin though, making him ache in response.

“You think I’d let a drop get passed my lips?” Dean asked, dragging his teeth down Sam’s jaw line. He moved back though, loosening his tie just slightly, “Fine, I’ll wait. But you owe me.”

"I'll make it up to you," Sam licked his lips and looked at Dean suggestively, "Promise." Sam reached out and tightened Dean's tie again, sighing at how stubborn he was.

Dean pulled back to get away, loosening the tie again, “Come on, I can’t breathe with this dog collar on; it’s fine loose,” He grabbed Sam’s, chuckling as he pulled the taller man to him and brought their lips together, tongue tracing between Sam’s as they kissed.

Sam chuckled against Dean's lips, nipping lightly at his tongue, "It's not a dog collar, it's a tie and you **won't** suffocate." Sam cupped Dean's cheek and deepened the kiss a little, "Besides, if you do, I'd get to perform mouth to mouth on you."

“I’m sure we could find a way to do that without one of us possibly dying,” Dean responded, wrapping his arms around Sam’s neck and pulling him into a warm, sensual hug, pressing his cheek to Sam’s and breathing gently into his ear, “Goddamn, I love you so much.”

Sam wrapped his arms tightly around Dean's waist, "I love you too." It wasn't something Sam was quite used to hearing yet, it left him breathless almost every time. It was a good thing they were hugging though, he actually felt tears stinging at his eyes.

Dean kissed Sam’s temple, his stubble grazing the other man’s cheek and he thought out loud, “Should I shave?”

Sam brought his finger's up to Dean's cheek and rubbed against the grain, "Don't you dare." Sam had his reasons, he liked the way it felt.

“Good, I can’t stand shavin’,” Dean grinned, dropping his arms to slip them inside of Sam’s coat, wrapping them around his waist and staring into his eyes. “So, on the off chance that your mom absolutely hates my guts, an’ can’t stand me... Can I count on you still lovin’ me?”

"Absolutely," Sam kissed Dean between his brows, "But I'm tellin' you, she's gonna love you."

Dean smiled, moving to rest his head on Sam’s shoulder, taking a deep, shaky breath, “I hope so, last thin’ I want is to come home alone tonight.”

"You're stuck with me, like it or not," Sam ran his fingers through Dean's hair, "It's like a two hour drive though, we should probably get goin'."

Dean grabbed the back of Sam’s neck, pressing a firm, heated kiss to the other man’s lips before he pulled away, walking out into the living room and grabbing up his keys, “Right, right, let’s get this over, shall we?”

Sam chuckled and headed towards the door, "Don't sound too excited, wouldn't want you to bust a blood vessel or anything." Sam grinned at Dean and smacked him on the ass before opening the door and heading out.

* * *

They pulled up in front of the house, made good time getting there. Sam leaned across the seat and fixed Dean's tie, "Endure it for me?"

He was nervous and he was sure it was showing, this was a big deal. He hadn't told his mom about Dean at all, so all of this was going to be a little bit of a surprise. She did know that Sam was bringing a **friend** with him for dinner though, so at least she wouldn't strangle him for that.

Dean rolled his eyes, smiling as his stomach squirmed and he pressed his lips to Sam’s one last time, enough to calm himself for a moment, “It’s gonna be fine,” He breathed, saying it more to himself than to Sam, and he turned, opening his door and climbing out of the car.

Sam got out of the car and ran his hands along the front of his suit, making sure he looked okay. It'd been a while since he'd seen his Mom and he really wanted this whole thing to go over smoothly.

He forced himself up the front sidewalk to the door, Dean right next to him the whole way. He glanced at Dean nervously and tried to force a smile, "Here goes nothin'." Sam reached out and knocked a few times.

“I uh...” Dean turned, licking his lips, “What’s her name? Your mom, I don’t know her name yet-”

Sam's mom opened the door and her face practically lit up, Sam only had a second to catch his breath before she grabbed him into a hug, "My baby boy!"

She was ecstatic and it warmed Sam's heart to see her so happy, "Hi, Momma."

She pulled back and looked between the two of them, her face was a little curious when she looked at Dean, "This your friend, honey?" Sam didn't really have time to answer her before she offered her hand to Dean, "I'm Mary, sweetheart. What's your name?"

Dean stared in shock, eyes widening and mouth popping open as his entire world fell out from under his feet.

He felt numb, he felt like backing up and running away as fast as he could. It was like someone had flipped the world off it’s axis, like he was going to be sick, literally sick if he kept standing up.

He glanced at Sam, a fleeting, terrified look as it hit him. Sam **Winchester** , Campbell - he knew that name had been somewhat familiar before. And now-

“Dean,” He said, reaching out to Mary, staring into her face as he felt his eyes prick with unwanted tears, “Winchester.” He almost didn’t recognize his **own** last name as it passed his lips, and he wished he honestly **didn’t**.

“Hi... Mom.” He practically choked then, the word being one he didn’t say often, avoided in most cases, and his voice shook as it came out; as everything important in his life was suddenly ripped from him.

Sam watched the whole interaction with his brows pulled tight, Dean looked like he'd just seen a ghost.

Mary stood still, her face both pained and shocked. It seemed like they all stood like that forever. None of this made sense to Sam.

Out of no where Mary wrapped her arms around Dean like she hadn't seen him in years... which was impossible because they just met and _did Dean call her **Mom**?_

Before Sam knew it, his Mom was sobbing as she clung to Dean, repeating how much she missed him and how she thought she'd never see him again.

Sam cleared his throat, "I-I don't understand, what's goin' on?"

Dean squeezed his eyes shut as he wrapped his arms around her, pressing his lips into Mary's shoulder and breathing in the smell of her perfume. He was shaking so hard at this point, just holding onto her was the **best** he could do.

The last time he’d been with her, he was so small, so short, and now-having Mary in his arms-how small she was compared to him, it was a sickeningly realistic change. He’d gotten his mother back, _but at what cost?_

Suddenly his entire life felt like fate was playing a horrible, cruel joke on him and his eyes opened, staring into Sam’s eyes as he began to feel the weight of everything shoving down on his shoulders, so hard he was surprised he didn’t collapse completely with it.

“Remember, I told you,” He started, his stomach twisting, “Sam,” he nearly choked, “Sammy. My mom and dad divorced, an’ I had a little brother-”

 _Oh dear fucking god_ , he’d been sleeping with his **brother**. He’d been having sex with his **brother** this entire time.

Dean let go of Mary and stared at Sam, suddenly feeling completely, entirely cold. It was like someone was ripping his heart into pieces, burning him up from the inside as he said the rest, “You’re my **brother**.”

Sam felt his throat tighten as everything came together, everything started to make a little more sense. Sam felt like he couldn't breathe, his chest was burning and his eyes were watering, because this couldn't be happening, "No."

He shook his head, not wanting to believe it. This meant that the man he was in love with, the man he'd been having sex with was his... **brother** , "I think I'm gonna get sick." Sam put his hand against the front of the house to keep himself up, felt like someone pulled a rug out from underneath him.

Mary put her hands on Sam's shoulders and tried to soothe him, "I'm so sorry, honey. I should've told you."

Sam didn't realize how bad all of this hurt until he heard his Mom speak and she was right, she **should have** told him. Sam backed away from her a little bit and grimaced, "Don't, just don't."

“Sam,” Dean felt the ache inside of him, watching the other man struggling. He was sure it looked like what he was going through as well-and _their mother... Mary_ had no idea, no clue what was going on. She just thought that he was Sam’s **friend**. It was an innocent assumption, and Dean was honestly grateful that was all she knew, that she hadn’t known more; that she hadn’t known they were fucking **before** she found out that Dean was her son as well.

Dean reached out as well now, he had to do something, he had to do some damage control, anything to keep the situation from escalating. He took Sam’s forearm, “Sam, please-”

" _You_ ," Sam was still in shock and that was all he could keep repeating. What were the odds that not only would he find his long lost brother, but fall in love **and** have a relationship with him as well? Sam didn't even know he **had** a brother until now.

Mary was just as confused as everyone else, she had every right to be though, she had no idea what had happened between them.

Sam could barely look at Dean without feeling like someone just punched him in the gut. This wasn't Dean's fault though, his Mom should have told him about all of this.

Mary gestured to the inside of the house, "Come on, boys. Let's talk about this inside."

Dean stared sadly at Sam, wanting to comfort him, wanting to hold him... Wanting to **kiss** him. And it terrified Dean, knowing now, but that was _how he felt_. He couldn’t **help** it. That was how he felt, and he’d meant every word he’d ever said to Sam.

“Yeah, this isn’t really somethin’ that should be happenin’ on the porch,” _or at all, ever_ , He spoke numbly, swallowing as he watched his... _His brother._

Sam nodded mindlessly before he wiggled his arm free from Dean's hand, he walked passed his Mom and Dean and went inside. Sam went straight to the living room to sit down on the couch, he knew that if he stood any longer he'd probably pass out. He was still trying to wrap his mind around it, the feelings he had for Dean wouldn't just go **away** now that he knew he was his brother. Sam had a family now, it wasn't just him and his Mom anymore.

Mary put her hand on Dean's shoulder and smiled weakly as she directed him inside.

Sam felt so stupidly numb from his toes clear to his head, he didn't even realize he started crying. If Mary would have just told Sam, maybe none of this would've happened. What was this going to do to their relationship? _Or would it even last?_

Dean stepped inside, feeling like his legs were made of lead, watching the other man on the couch and wanting, wanting more than anything, to console him; to do something. He couldn’t help it, he had to. It hurt so bad just watching Sam, his Sammy, suffer in silence.

He moved, taking the seat by his brother and doing the **least** sensual, most comforting thing he could think of. His hand touched Sam’s back, rubbing it, pressing his left peck to the other man’s shoulder as he took Sam’s forearm with his other hand, “Sam, please, lookit me.”

He didn’t want to be obvious in front of Mary, but after being with Sam so intimately, doing nothing at all just felt wrong. They needed some privacy and, on a day of thanks and giving, asking Mary for space, well... How do you ask that? _How do you deal with something like this?_ How do you deal with it at all?

Mary stood in the doorway and watched the boys for a minute before speaking up, "I'm going to go check on the turkey, I'll be back in just a few minutes."

Sam knew it wasn't a lot of time, but he was thankful that she at least understood he needed a moment.

He looked at Dean, his cheeks were wet and his hazel eyes were rimmed red as he shook his head, "I can't do this, Dean. I-I don't... I can't-" The overwhelming fear of Dean not wanting him rocked throughout his whole body as he sobbed, who'd want their own brother that way? It wasn't fair; Dean was his lover and his brother, it left Sam feeling like he had to make a choice between the two - and he couldn't do it.

“Sam,” Dean touched his brother’s face weakly, how... How could he even **begin** with this? He’d **always** known that there was something more to them, that they had something he didn’t understand. And now, he knew that he couldn’t have **even** begun.

He pressed his forehead to Sam’s, closing his eyes tight as he breathed and whispered: “ _I don’t care_.” He almost felt sick admitting it, he was so terrified with how Sam was going to react, this could get a million times worse.

“I meant what I said, what I’ve been sayin’,” He managed out, lips numb with fear, voice so soft he could barely hear it himself, “ _I love you,_ that’s never gonna change. I don’t care **what** we are.”

Dean's words sobered Sam up pretty quick, he wiped his eyes and tried to find his voice, "I love you too. It's not somethin' I can just turn off, wouldn't do it if I could."

It made Sam feel a little better and a little less alone, to know that Dean still wanted him despite everything, "But what are we gonna do?" Sam knew they couldn't tell Mary, he'd have to lie to his Mom. This was all a lot to take in and process, and still felt a little light headed.

The weight lifted from Dean’s chest as he heard the other man’s response, and he smiled in relief, he pulled away, just in case Mary came back into the room, _Mary_... His mother, **Mary**.

“I don’t know,” He said honestly, looking into Sam’s eyes, “Goddamn, it’s not like I’ve ever done anythin’ like **this**.”

He chuckled, taking his bottom lip between his teeth as he ran his thumb over the back of Sam’s hand, “F’we just get through tonight, then we can talk about this, figure out what to do. I don’t... I’m havin’ a hard time even thinkin’ about it all. We can’t tell Ma–... Mom. Not yet at least. One day, one day maybe she’ll have to know. But–” Dean ran his hand through his hair, staring at Sam, “But I love you, I mean that, I do. An’ we’ll figure this out.”

Sam sniffled and tried to clear his head as his Mom came back into the room, **their** Mom.

Mary sat down on the table in front of them and put a hand on each of their knees, "I'm really sorry all of this happened this way, boys."

Sam knew his Mom was sincere, damn it, **their** mom. This was going to take some getting used to, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Mary fidgeted with the rings on her fingers before she looked at Sam, "Sweetheart, you were just a baby when things didn't work out with your Dad."

Sam noticed the sad way she looked at Dean when she mentioned their father. His eyes widened as he looked at Dean and wondered if his Mom knew about the whole supernatural lifestyle, but he didn't say anything.

Dean reached out and took their mother’s hands in between both of his, “I’ve missed you, so much.” He looked at Sam, “Both of you. It’s... It’s a long story, I guess.” He didn’t know what else to say. How the hell was he going to explain to Mary that his father had never quit, had **obsessed**? She would be furious. And to do something like that on Thanksgiving day... He was just glad to know he’d found them at last, glad, and also very, very worried.

"I've missed you too, honey. You wouldn't believe how much," Mary looked at both of them, curiosity clearly on her face, "How did you boys find each other?"

This was what Sam wanted to avoid, he couldn't just tell his Mom he went into a bar and then ensued in a gay one night stand that ended up being more, not if he valued his life, "Met each other through a mutual friend, just started hanging out," He looked at Dean nervously, hoping he'd go along with it, "Ended up best friends." Sam could tell that the answer pleased their Mom, she was happy to have both of her boys.

Mary turned more to Dean and tried to smile, "Dean, sweetheart," Mary hung her head before she looked back at Dean, "You understand why your father and I did what we did... right? It wasn't because I didn't want you."

Dean nearly winced at his mother’s words, as she brought him right into the conversation he wanted to avoid. He figured it was best to roll with it, might as well get everything out on the table now. “It was cause of hunting,” Dean said, nodding, “Yeah, I know that.” He licked his lips as he watched her, “He still does.”

Mary nodded sadly, "I would've taken you both, but the courts wouldn't allow it," She looked at Sam like she wasn't sure if he knew, "Did your Dad raise you to hunt?"

Sam looked at their Mom incredulously, "Wait... you know? I-I mean about all the... _things_?"

Mary just nodded like she understood exactly what Sam was trying to say before she returned her attention to Dean.

“He did, ma’am,” Dean said, ducking his head down, “After a while, though, I just got sick of it. Sick of listenin’ to him obsess about it. So, I quit. Been about... Three years now, almost four?”

Mary held her hand under Dean's chin and forced his face up, "I'm not your father, honey. You don't have to be so formal with me."

Sam sat silently, watching and observing, he figured Dean needed their mom a little more - considering he went practically his whole life without her.

"I'm proud of you, baby. That's not a good life for anyone. I just wish John would've seen that."

“He’s in a bad way, ma,” Dean said, staring into her eyes, slightly surprised by the fierce warmth from her, the sudden feeling of home and comfort; now that he wasn’t so numb with terror that he’d lost his lover, “He won’t stop, an’ I’ve tried to get ‘im to. Ask Sam...”

Dean looked at his brother, the moment still sort of dazing him with the fact that he was talking to his **mother** and referring to the man that had been fucking the daylights out of him these past 6 months plus, as his younger brother, Sammy, “He dragged us on this stupid goose chase that just put us both in danger, an’ he just won’t stop at nothin’ ‘til he gets that thin' that caused the fire.”

"I know you love your father, Dean. I still do, he gave me the both of you. But, your father's **never** going to change," Their Mom frowned, "I say if he chooses that life over the both of you then he deserves what he gets. I'm just glad you're both safe."

Sam sat in awe, even though she didn't say anything gruesome, that was still probably the meanest thing he'd ever heard her say. He looked at Dean and wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around him. All this talk about their Dad had Sam wondering if he even wanted to meet him - didn't exactly sound like a good guy.

Mary didn't let the conversation go any further, she stood up and grabbed both of their hands, "Come on, boys. Let's go eat, supper's done."

“Mom,” Dean said suddenly, standing as well and staring into her eyes. He needed to, he had to. He moved again, pulling her into his arms and holding her tight, “I’ve missed you.”

Sam let go of their Mom's hand as she wrapped her arms around Dean's neck, "We won't lose touch again, you hear me? Can't believe how you've grown and how handsome you are."

Sam nodded silently to himself, he had to agree with that part. It was odd, how he felt so complete and how it warmed his heart to see them hugging.

Mary pulled back and cupped Dean's cheek as she smiled, "See your Daddy didn't teach you how to shave," She patted his cheek before she reached back out for Sam as well, "Come on now, food's going to get cold."

Dean chuckled at the comment, throwing Sam a raised brow, considering the other man **preferred** him that way. The _other_ man, his **brother**. He touched Sam’s arm as Mary turned away, giving him a soft, quick squeeze of reassurance as they followed their mother.

Everything was going to be fine, it **had** to be.

Dean couldn’t live if it wasn't.


	8. Chapter 8

Things had went surprisingly smooth, dinner was amazing as always and Sam ate more than he should of. They stayed until it got dark, Sam could tell Dean didn't really want to go and he understood that.

If he'd went his entire life without his mom, then got her back, he wouldn't want to leave either.

She hugged them both for what seemed like forever before they left, made them both promise to keep in touch and stop by whenever.

At this point they were both sitting in the Impala, Sam was unsure of what to say, their Mom had held most of the conversation at dinner. The heaviness of the situation started creeping back up on Sam, reminding him that Dean was no longer just his lover, he was his brother too.

They had two hours left of driving ahead of them and Dean didn’t feel like doing it in silence, but he did. He’d started the car and pulled out of their mother’s driveway, hitting the interstate the second he got the chance, brows narrowed slightly as he took everything into account.

He was sure Sam had been fine with this before dinner, or well, was managing then. But he didn’t know what Sam was thinking of it now. Had dinner changed anything? It hadn’t for **him**. He still loved Sam with all of his being, he still wanted to be with the other man. He reached out, steering with one hand as he sped a hundred on the interstate, taking Sam’s left hand and lacing their fingers together.

Sam gave Dean's hand a reassuring squeeze as he continued to look out the window, what they had before they found out about all of this was strong enough to get them through it. And they would get through it, they had to because Sam was one hundred and fifty percent sure he couldn't live without Dean at this point.

He glanced at Dean quickly before returning his attention elsewhere, "I love you." He wasn't sure if Dean wanted to hear it right now, but he needed to say it, wanted Dean to know he still clung to what they had.

Dean squeezed Sam’s hand within his as he stared ahead, feeling the speeding thrum of his heart beat as he drove, “I love you,” He said, and it sounded stern, almost like a command, almost violent as he said it.

He didn’t mean it to come out that way, but it did and he looked at his brother, staring at Sam with his eyebrows knitted together. They shouldn’t talk in the car, Dean knew he’d get too emotional, he always reacted strongly, so he kept it in and turned back to the road.

* * *

The second Dean was passed the door, he was loosening his tie and kicking off his shoes, waiting for Sam to come in before lining it with salt and leaning against it as he breathed. This was, despite where it was located and how much he hated his apartment, his safe haven.

Here was where he always came to release his feelings, whether negative, painful, or angry, he was always able to keep it in until he got back here. And now it was like he was trying to shove the boulder back, pressing his shoulders against the door as if he held it long enough, today wouldn’t have happened; like he could almost deny it had, while he was in here.

He breathed through his nose, opening his eyes and looking at Sam desperately. All he really wanted to do right now was fuck his brother, and that should probably be wrong, but he didn’t care.

Sam walked almost mindlessly before he took his coat off and laid it across the back of the couch, he turned and propped himself against it as he looked at Dean. The entire ride had pretty much been completely silent, awkwardness still lingering between them a little.

Dean was damn near unreadable, "You've gotta tell me what you're thinkin'," Sam crossed his arms over his chest lazily, it was almost a relief to be back home.

Dean stood from the back of the door, heart racing again as he walked to Sam and took his hands in his own, staring down at them. He squeezed the larger man’s fingers within his, Dean’s forehead pressing to Sam’s for a moment, his ragged breathing breaking through before he tilted his head and kissed his brother, kissed him for all that he was worth.

He poured everything he had into it, how angry and scared he was, how he was completely desperate, broken, terrified, eager, sad, horny as hell and confused because of it, but Dean didn’t want to lose him. He couldn’t live if he lost Sam now.

Sam kissed back with just as much fervor, his breathing was heavy and ragged, "Dean."

In a weird way, this explained everything better than talking it out anyway. This way, he could show Dean it didn't matter, he could show him how much he still wanted him. Sam's hands slid down Dean's back, over the swell of his ass and down to his thighs as Sam picked him up and carried him to the bedroom.

Dean’s eyes widened as he was taken up into Sam’s arms. He kissed the larger man, panting into his brother’s mouth as he unbuttoned the annoying fucking dress shirt, pulling the tie from Sam’s collar and throwing it onto the ground before they’d passed his door frame.

Sam laid Dean down on the bed and hovered over him as he continued to kiss him, their tongues working in turn as little whimpers escaped his throat. Sam pressed a few eager kisses to Dean's jaw before he pulled away enough to take his own dress shirt off, followed by his undershirt before he began working on Dean's.

After he got his brother's dress shirt open he lifted his undershirt up and pressed kisses along his stomach, "Need you." Sam's voice was muffled and he knew he was probably coming off a little desperate and needy, but he was, he **needed** Dean.

“Goddamn, Sam,” Dean breathed out, legs embracing Sam’s torso as he sat up slightly, looking down at the larger man, the **taller** man, **younger** , his _brother_ , and he didn’t fucking care **what** Sam was or **who** he was, as long as he was still the same person, as long as he was **Dean’s**. He pulled his loose dress shirt off, yanked the one underneath up over his biceps and tossed it across the bed.

Sam's fingers worked mindlessly on Dean's belt as he continued kissing any of Dean's skin his lips could reach, his mouth was practically watering for the man beneath him. Sam pulled the belt loose enough to undo Dean's slacks, he yanked both the slacks and Dean's boxer briefs partially down his hips as he kissed all the newly exposed skin.

He tried to slow himself down as he traced his tongue along the base of Dean's cock, his own was hard and resisting against his pants. All of the new revelations didn't matter; Dean was **still** the one Sam loved and desired unconditionally and nothing would change that.

Dean sat up, running his fingers through Sam’s hair and pulling his bottom lip into his mouth as he watched the larger man, “Fuck, Sam,” He breathed as his hips bucked slightly. His heart was up in his throat, hands shaking as the relief settled in.

Sam cared just as little about them being brothers, and Dean wasn’t exactly sure what that meant, but he didn’t care, as long as they both agreed on it. Watching the other man still had the same effect, feeling him, kissing him, having his arms around him, it had all been the same. Dean had to keep telling himself that, had to keep reminding himself that nothing was changing, that he was okay, that Sam wasn’t going to leave him.

Sam licked a strip from the base of Dean's cock to the tip before he wrapped his lips around the head and pushed his mouth down onto it, moaning as he did so. Sam grabbed the base of the shaft with his right hand as he used his left to hold Dean's hip, to keep him from moving. He hollowed his cheeks, closed his eyes and took Dean down all the way. He wanted this, wanted to please Dean, but he felt if he didn't get some sort of friction as well, he was going to combust.

“Wait,” Dean shifted back, grabbing the hair at the base of Sam’s neck to stop him, “Wait, Sam.”

He leaned down and kissed the other man, forcing him to stand up as Dean kicked away his pants, taking his brother’s and pulling them down to his feet as well, staring into Sam's eyes before offering his shoulder as a support to step out of them.

Sam laid his hand on Dean's shoulder as he stepped out of his slacks, a slightly confused expression on his face, "What's wrong?" Sam tried searching Dean's face for some sort of answer, praying and hoping that he wasn't just going to back out of this now.

“Nothin’s wrong,” Dean assured, resting his hands on Sam’s hips as he pulled him close, Dean’s eyes level with his stomach, “Just, well, we can... I mean, if you want.” His stammering was coming in, and that just wasn’t _Dean_ at all, it was embarrassing, but he ignored it.

He’d never done this with anyone, “If you lay on your back, you know?”

Sam cupped Dean's face with his large hands and began shaking his head no when it registered, his eyes widened and he started to grin a little, "I like the way you think."

He kissed Dean briefly before turning them back around,  Sam laid himself out on the bed and propped one arm under his head as he used his free hand to make a 'come-hither' motion.

Dean crawled forward, situating himself waist above Sam and his own face level with his brother’s cock. Goddamn, he’d never done something like this, hadn’t even really considered it until now. He wasn’t sure how it would be, but people normally liked it, from what he’d heard. He leaned down, taking the base of Sam’s cock and giving it a tentative, but firm, pump before tasting the tip of it with his tongue.

Sam stroked his hands along Dean's legs softly as he kissed his inner thighs, his tongue flicking out to tease the head of his brother's dick. This was pretty new to the both of them and, judging by the sensations already, it was safe to say Sam was going to like it.

He wrapped his right hand around Dean's cock as he began sucking like he had before, he used his thumb and began making circular motions around Dean's entrance before he pressed the tip of it in.

Dean paused, looking down at Sam as his eyes widened. **Christ** , he hadn’t even _considered_ that. He wasn’t able to do much with his own hands though, holding himself up, but he spread Sam’s legs wide, lowering his own hips as he took the larger man’s cock back into his mouth. He lifted his right arm gingerly, wetting the fingers and reaching underneath Sam’s back to keep himself up, and finger his brother’s hole carefully as he did so.

Sam pulled his mouth off of Dean long enough to let out a strangled, "Ah, Dean," before he went back at it. This was nice, he could pleasure Dean as Dean did the same for him. This position was definitely going on his list of favorites. Sam pressed the tip of his thumb in a little further, arching it slightly as he continued to suck his brother like his life depended on it.

Dean’s body arched, and Sam’s cock popped out of his mouth as he moaned, “Fuck,” His toes were curling as he tried to keep himself in check, “Careful.” He returned to what he was doing, deep-throating the other man as he slowly pushed a finger up into his brother. His whole frame was shaking now, _goddamn_ , he could definitely see why people liked it now.

Sam's hips bucked upward slightly as he moaned around Dean's dick, teasing the head as he swirled his tongue around the tip. The older man didn't know exactly what his voice did to Sam in positions like this, he tightened his grip on his brother's girth and began pumping as he sucked. Sam was close and the way Dean was going to town on him, he knew he wouldn't last long.

Dean hadn’t been expecting quite the pleasure he was getting from this, sucking Sam off could’ve easily counted as one of his favorite pass times, and the taste of the other man just excited him in general, but to be doing it **while** Sam was sucking him off was one of the most arousing things he’d ever experienced. He wanted to do this over again and again, as often as possible, every day if he could. Breathing in Sam’s scent after the day they’d been through was like heaven, and he couldn’t care what had happened today, as long as it ended like this, it was **perfect**.

Sam removed his thumb, but only to replace it with his forefinger as he went deeper, trying to hit that spot as he continued to suck Dean off. He would pull off occasionally to drag his tongue across Dean's balls. He could feel the warmth spreading in his groin as his hip bucked up one last time as he came without warning.

His jaw went slack against Dean's skin as his muscles spasmed, "Fuck, Dean. _Yeah_."

It had taken Dean by surprise completely, no hand around the other man’s cock to feel the orgasm hit. He pulled back slightly, swallowing the globs of cum, lapping at the tip, adoring the familiar sweet taste of the larger man. His hand moved from under Sam, smoothing along his thighs before he took his brother’s length in his right, milking it carefully.

The second Sam realized he was neglecting Dean, he wrapped his hand back around his throbbing cock and started jacking him off as he continued to tease the head with his tongue, swirling around and tasting the pre-come. He made sure he arched his fingers just right and began pumping his finger in and out of Dean faster, then he added a second finger.

Dean gasped and shuddered, “No, wait,” He said, head dropping by Sam’s cock, hair brushing the sensitive skin of the other man’s leg, “Not yet, Sam.”

Sam kissed Dean's inner thigh and laid his head back against the pillow as he stopped, "What now?" He wanted to be able to get Dean off too. There were times when he wanted it more than breathing, this being one of those times.

“Hold on,” Dean moved around, climbing up to face Sam, squeezing his cock to calm himself down, “Fuck, Sam.” He licked his lips, staring into the other man’s eyes, “I... I wanna... Make love... To you.” Dean felt his cheeks flushing even as he said the words, but he managed to get them out safely before his voice broke off. He just needed to be closer to the other man, in any way he could.

Sam swallowed and licked his lips nervously, watching Dean's face carefully. He was pretty sure he'd have to invent a new word that described what he felt for Dean, because love just didn't cut it anymore.

He reached up and ran the pad of his thumb across Dean's cheek lovingly, "Okay," Sam's voice was borderline timid and his heart was hammering wildly in his chest.

Dean smiled as he kissed Sam, heated, shivering as he took the lube from it’s spot where they’d left it the night before. He sat on his calves, legs spread slightly as he stared at Sam, “C’mere,” He breathed, pushing his brother’s legs to one side as he slicked himself up, "Want you, on my lap, your back to me.”

Sam moved to his knees, stealing a sweet chaste kiss before he turned and put his back to Dean. He rubbed his ass on Dean's groin, his hands feeling Dean's thighs as he tilted his head to the side, "Like this?"

“Goddamn, yeah,” Dean gasped, grabbing Sam’s hips, “Just like that, perfect.” He positioned the larger man, lowering him as Dean held his own cock in place, dropping Sam carefully down onto him as he breathed against his brother’s spine.

Sam tilted his head back and laid it on Dean's shoulders as his brother entered him, it was a slow fulfilling type of burn that felt good down to his bones, "Dean." Sam arched his back a little and helped by pushing himself down onto his brother fully.

“So tight, Sammy,” The nickname slipped out before Dean even had time to think about it and, as practically humiliated he was of it, and nervous for the other man’s reaction to the admission and assertion of Sam as his brother **during** sex, Dean still felt his cock throb with the knowledge; knowing that Sam still loved him and wanted him, wanted Dean inside of him, no matter what he was.

Sam moaned aloud when he heard Dean say his name, or his nickname actually, a **new** nickname that he hadn't really heard before. It wasn't like Sam was stupid though, so he knew that it was a nickname Dean probably had for him before they were separated. Sam almost felt ashamed of himself, because god damn if that didn't make him rock hard within seconds.

He rolled his head to the side so his lips could graze Dean's jaw, "God, Dean. Say it again." Sam didn't give a fuck how twisted this made him, it was Dean saying it and that's all that mattered.

Dean’s eyes widened slightly at the response and he canted up into Sam, pushing his cock deeper as he repeated it for his brother, “Sammy,” He said, licking his lips as he did so. It probably shouldn’t surprise him at this point, but it did, that Sam was so easy to please, so eager to take off with Dean and follow in line beside him; to not judge. It was a sync that Dean was sure was **because** they were brothers, and that’s where that spark from before had been, the ability to feel so strongly for one another.

Sam's hands squeezed at Dean's thighs, he loved the way his brother's skin felt under his finger tips. It was insane how the knowledge of this newfound bond did the opposite of what he'd initially expected, being like this with Dean when it was socially taboo turned him on a little. To be fair though, everything about Dean turned him on, and that happened **before** he knew about their relation, "Love you, Dean."

“Love you too, Sammy,” Dean breathed out as he began carefully pumping his legs up, bucking his hips enough to cause a slow, steady rock between them, bouncing his brother in his lap. One hand grabbed Sam’s hip to pull him down, the other wrapping around to hold the larger man close in an embrace, keeping Dean’s chest pressed to his brother's back.

Sam's dick was hard again, damn near purple and oozing pre-come as it slapped against his stomach. He felt close, even though he hadn't touched himself and he could still feel his muscles flex instinctively from his first orgasm.

Dean was so hard and full, hitting that spot every time he thrust into Sam and he knew without a doubt that he was going to come again just from Dean penetrating him; not to mention how good his brother's skin felt pressed to his back, made Sam feel loved and safe.

Dean pressed his forehead between Sam’s shoulder blades, sharp little gasps and moans escaping his lips as he panted. He ignored the sweat dripping down through his brow, biting along his brother’s skin, anywhere he could catch it up, thighs spreading so that he could slam harder into Sam. He gasped, so close, so fucking close he almost couldn’t breathe.

His hand took Sam up, fingers wrapping around the swollen cock and working it fast, lining them side by side, Dean’s orgasm rocking through him, dotting his vision just as Sam’s did as well and they came together. Dean’s toes curled as he sobbed his release, voice muffled against his brother’s back.

Sam choked out a moan, coming with Dean almost as soon as his brother touched him. It would be embarrassing if it were anyone other than Dean, but it **wasn't** someone else. Sam's body felt lax next to Dean's as his brother held him close, the other man's breath on his back sending shivers down his spine. Sam parted his lips and tried to say something more than once, but he couldn't find his voice.

“I gotchya,” Dean said weakly, holding Sam close and kissing along his back, wrapping his arms around the larger man and closing his eyes as he tongued the sweat from Sam’s skin.

Sam arched his back so that he could press his lips to Dean's jaw, his breathing finally starting to become normal again, "M'glad." If he was being completely honest with himself, he wasn't sure if he could even move - considering he could barely speak.

Dean chuckled and slowly, carefully laid them down, turning Sam so that they were facing each other before folding his brother up within his arms. “Think you can stay awake for a moment?” He asked, smiling as he stared into Sam’s eyes.

Sam slid his hand lazily down Dean's bicep as he hummed happily, "Mhm."

The older of the two moved in, brushing their noses together as he said: “I know it’s not normal, it’s weird, but I don’t want either of us to ignore the fact that we’re brothers. You seem okay with that, far as I can see, an’ I’m okay with it too; what we do is our business an’ no one else’s.”

He touched Sam’s jaw, “My feelin’s aren’t goin’ away, an’ I don’t think they ever will. I just feel like that needed to be said.”

Sam's eyes widened a little at the admission and he felt his heart stutter a little in his chest, he wrapped his hand around Dean's on the side of his face, "If anything, it's sort of a blessing in disguise." That's exactly what it was, because not only did he have a lover, but now he also had a brother.

“Yeah, I...” Dean smiled wider, “Exactly. An’ now I don’t have to keep wonderin’ if you’re out there, if you’re safe, if you’re happy. I don’t have to worry about mom anymore, cause I know where she is. There’s still a lot to talk about, a lot to tell you, but I’m just glad that I have you in my life, an’ that we are what we are to each other. I... I wouldn’t change it. I wouldn’t change how it happened, or that we’re brothers. I **wouldn’t**.”

Sam met Dean's smile with one of his own, heartfelt and warm, "I'm just glad I agreed to that one night stand." Sam was thankful he went against his mother's wishes and step foot in a bar, the same bar where he met both his soul mate **and** his brother.

"Looks like you're kind of stuck with me for real now, huh?" Sam tried scooting impossibly closer as he draped his arm over Dean's waist.

“Guess so, but I think I can handle that.” Dean pressed his lips to Sam’s, “There’s a lot of chance in our whole meetin’, feels kinda like fate or somethin’ stupid like that. But leavin’ my dad an’ choosin’ to live here? What're the odds?”

"Fate, kismet, God or whatever the hell you wanna call it," Sam kissed Dean slow and sensually, his lips lingered on them, "I'm just glad I've got you."

Dean’s hand curled into the back of Sam’s hair and he nodded in agreement, “How long you think we should wait before tellin’ mom?”

Sam chuckled, then sighed loudly, "Is indefinitely a good answer?" Sam knew they'd have to tell her eventually, but that didn't mean he couldn't try to put it off for a little longer.

“Mom’s smart, she’ll probably figure it out herself far before we even mean to tell her,” Dean thought aloud, he remembered her well enough, that sharp observation she had, “Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if she has an idea of it already. I mean, we weren’t exactly stealthy with our emotions earlier... It’s probably best that way though, best she puts it together on her own.”

"In an odd way, I kind of hope she **does** figure it out, you know?" Sam shrugged his shoulder, "I hate lying to her." Sam was a horrible liar too, so in all actuality Dean was probably right, she probably already knew and was just giving them time to tell her.

“Me too, an’ that’s not the way I wanna start off with her again, just lyin’ like that,” Dean sighed and curled in close to Sam, “As for dad... I don’t even know **what** to do about him.”

Sam ran his fingers through his brother's hair idly, "We'll figure it out, we've got time. Not sure he'd even wanna meet me."

Dean smiled, “Oh, he’ll wanna meet you, trust me.” He rolled over to pull the blanket from underneath him and wrap it around the both of them, hearing the bottle of lube drop off the side of the bed, “I know he worries about you a lot, same as I did.”

"Yeah?" Sam adjusted his arm on the blanket and smiled at Dean weakly, "Maybe I'm not sure if I'm ready to meet him." Truth be told, Sam was angry at John and he'd never even met the man. Just the brief stories he'd heard and the shit he put Dean through was enough to waver any want he had to meet his father.

“You don’t have to,” Dean assured, smoothing the worry from Sam’s brows with his thumb, “Not ever, not if you don’t want to, Sammy.”

"In time," Sam mumbled, "Maybe when he stops being so stubborn and stops runnin' from you, not 'til then though."

Dean chuckled and moved in, kissing Sam once, twice, three times, heating up more and more as he did so, pressing their chests together as he laced his fingers with Sam’s.

Sam ran his thumb over the skin on Dean's hand and murmured against his lips, "In case you were having any doubts," Sam deepened the kiss a little and breathed through his nose, "I love you."

“I love you,” Dean returned, feeling the warmth of Sam’s words spread through him, rolling them around so that he was on top, kissing Sam, weaving their legs together under the covers.

Sam grinned almost mischievously before he rolled them again, putting himself on top, "I think I feel a second wind comin' on." Sam dipped down to kiss Dean, nipping playfully at his lip.

Dean raised his brows and moaned softly, “Mm, more like three, for you,” His hands moved down, tracing along Sam’s well-defined chest, fingers drawing the line of his brother’s right peck.

"Whaddya say we even the score then?" Sam traced Dean's jawline with his tongue before he started to kiss down his brother's chest, eventually disappearing under the covers.

Dean’s eyes widened as his view was blinded, but he kept the covers over them, turning his body so that he was laying on his back and he moaned, “Sam.”


End file.
